


A Midsummer to Remember

by Lady_Frija



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Midsummer, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Pureblood Traditions, Redeemed Lucius, Romance, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 17:18:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20456573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Frija/pseuds/Lady_Frija
Summary: Prompt:"Somebody has been sending Hermione some rather odd flowers. She has no idea on their meaning, until, one day Luna describes them to her and states it is a pureblood tradition dating back centuries. Who could possibly be sending Hermione flowers that includes rosemary, yellow roses and wisteria?" Hermione wonders if there can be more in life than work and school books.





	1. Mysterious Missives

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Lusting_After_Lumione](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Lusting_After_Lumione) collection. 

> Chapter One Summary: Hermione has been getting some rather odd flowers.
> 
> So, I have never done a prompt challenge before and I had a lot of trouble so please be kind. 😉 I hope you enjoy this fluffy little tale. Scene breaks will be noted with a ~~~~~~~~~~

<https://ladyfrija.tumblr.com/post/187285613050/coming-soon-a-midsummer-to-remember>

“Like everything that’s green girl, I need you.  
But its more than one and one makes two  
Put aside the math and the logic of it  
You got to know you’re wanted too.”  
** “Wanted” by Hunter Hayes**

** June 21, 2002 Midsummer’s Day**

Hermione Granger twisted the fragrant lengths of rosemary in her hands with a soft wistful smile as she sat at the large oak vanity. She would have never thought she would be here, like this. She reflected happily of the first sprigs of rosemary that had taken her down this road to her present destination. The roses she wove the rosemary into were white today… but the memory of a few very different blooms brought the nostalgic smile to her face, nonetheless. 

** June 3, 1999: Hermione’s last year at Hogwarts**

It began in May. A simple but charming bouquet of flowers that had arrived at her window in Hogwarts by owl with no note. It was small, tiny stems of pale-yellow roses with sprigs of rosemary and blue wisteria placed whimsically among the blossoms, no larger than the leg of the bright-eyed Tawny owl that brought it. Hermione had smiled joyfully as the charmed, palm sized bouquet had bloomed into a full-sized bouquet at her touch, filling her small private room with the pleasant aroma. She kept the cheerful sight on her window, wondering who they were from. As the flowers had begun to wilt, she was surprised but pleased when a week later another bouquet had arrived with the same Tawny owl, and so continued every week after, and she found them a source of refreshment after classes and later, after her exams.

No one had ever sent Hermione Granger flowers. Perhaps it was vain, but when she went back to visit with Harry at Grimauld place the first weekend after exams, she took them with her. 

She was anxious over her exams of course, struggling to keep from clenching her hands or biting her nails sporadically in nervousness. Results probably wouldn’t be posted for a month or more… it would be a miserable month if she couldn’t get it together, so she tried to put it from her mind.

Ha. _Ha._

No, truly. She enjoyed being around Harry and Ginny, and yes, even Ron - sometimes. Being the only one of the three of them that returned to Hogwarts to finish schooling, she didn’t get to see any of them much these days. So, she tried to forget her exams, the long year, her upcoming internship at the Ministry’s Magical Creatures Department, and simply enjoy the company. Harry had invited Ginny of course, Hermione, Luna with Draco, George, Angelina, and Neville with his soon to be wife Hannah Abbot to dinner.

“Well, I’m glad you could all come tonight.” Harry said, as she and his other guests sat around the large wooden table in the kitchen. 

“You’re not going to make a speech are you, Potter?” Draco sneered, as Luna pinched his arm.

“I’ll save the speech for something important.” Harry said,

Hermione and Ginny met each other’s gaze with a smirk and an eyeroll. No one would dare call them friends, but after the events of the war and Voldemort’s fall, and for Luna’s sake, they called a relative truce. Luna and Draco were engaged after all and had been for some time. Their relationship had surfaced not long after the war, shocking them all, but apparently her imprisonment at Malfoy Manor by Voldemort had done her _some_ good after all…

Like a fire burning through underbrush to give way to new growth and life, tragedy sometimes had a way of bringing out something bright to ease the hurt. Hermione reflected sadly on this, not just for Luna and Draco, or giving Neville the confidence to pursue Hannah, or bringing Harry and Ginny’s feelings to light, but most tragic in her mind for George and Angelina. She watched the two under her lashes, stiltedly holding hands between their empty plates. The death of Fred, George’s brother, and Angelina’s former love had cut them both deeply in their own ways. But somewhere in their shared grief, they had discovered a new beginning in each other. Hermione hoped it was genuine, and not a bandage, a way to cling to someone no longer there…

Hermione must have tuned out in her thoughts for when she returned to the conversation, the subject was Luna and Draco’s approaching wedding. 

“You will all be there, will you not?” Luna asked, “I’m not one for big fancy parties, but its sure to be quite the affair.”

“Of course, Luna.” Ginny answered with a smile. “We wouldn’t miss it. We are the bridesmaids after all.”

“Ohh, not you, Hermione and Hannah.” Luna smiled waving her hand. “I meant the rest of you clowns.”

“Have you been busy planning Luna?” Angelina asked conversationally. 

“Oh yes.” Luna answered. “Draco’s father has graciously allowed us the use of the manor for the wedding and reception. I would much prefer the outdoors anyway, gardens are beautiful this time of year, so there is little in the way of decorating to do. Draco wouldn’t refuse me any expense, but I don’t see the need for extravagance.” 

“Won’t it be _your_ manor though?” Ron asked in boredom, leaning back and putting his feet on the table much to Ginny’s annoyance. “Thought that’s the way it went with all you rich guys, you get married, daddy hands the keys to the castle over and what, like a million galleons?”

Draco opened his mouth to give what was sure to be a biting and insulting retort, but Luna cut him off with a calming hand on his arm. “_Actually,_” Luna redirected, “Yes, we will be taking charge of the family estate, but we want to do some travelling first.”

“Oh, for a honeymoon?” Neville asked.

“Sort-of-not-really.” Draco answered, stifling a yawn. “Turns out my idea of a vacation and my betrothed’s idea of a vacation are very…very… different.”

“What Draco _means_ is that we’re going to Norway, as there’s been a report of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack sighting!”

“And of course, she wants to try and find it.” Draco continued. “But we’ve got a list. We’ll be travelling here and there for about a year.”

“I plan to keep a record of our travels and my findings and turn it into a book if I can get enough.”

“That sounds… really interesting Luna.” Hermione said graciously, not having the heart or mental fortitude to remind her – yet again – that the Crumple Horned Snorkack was probably more than likely a complete myth. 

“It should be!” Luna said with a beaming smile, not noticing Hermione’s pause. 

“Oh, but your wedding.” Ginny added as an afterthought. “Are you leaving straight after? You’ll miss the Midsummer Night festival the ministry is hosting.”

“Oh. No.” Draco droned, “Anything but that.”

Luna smiled wistfully. “We’ll find ways to occupy ourselves I’m sure.”

Hermione couldn’t help a jealous smile at her affectionate glance towards Draco. She avoided Ron’s eye purposefully. Time’s like this would always inspire Ron to make a face or worse try and steal a kiss. True they’d kissed during the Battle of Hogwarts. And she’d thought she was developing some feeling for him.  
But time away from each other in peace time had made her realize they were going in two different directions in their life. Ron was annoyed with how much time she spent away at school, and it didn’t take long for their official “boyfriend girlfriend” status to fizzle out. But the end of term had renewed Ron’s efforts and Hermione just wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“Speaking of happy events.” Luna said, breaking Hermione’s brief reverie, “You didn’t tell us you were in a relationship!”

A surprised, ringing silence fell across the dinner table. 

“I… uh… I’m not?” Hermione said, confused.

“Oh?” Luna raised an eyebrow. “Then who are the flowers from? Ginny said they weren’t hers, so I assumed…”

“I’m not sure… They were sent anonymously.” Hermione admitted, brushing her hair behind her ear anxiously.

“Ooooohhh.” Luna breathed. “A secret admirer?”

“Why do you think they’re from an admirer, Luna?” Ron asked sharply, his feet thumping to the floor as he leaned forward in earnest.

“I just assumed…” she shrugged, “My mistake.”

But a telltale sparkle in her eyes betrayed the truth…

A short while later that evening when they were mingling together in the living room, George and Neville struck up a game of cards. “You and Ginny have done a job at cheering the place up.” George called to Harry. 

Hermione didn’t hear the rest as she shamelessly cornered Luna at the sideboard where Ginny had left drinks. 

“Alright Luna. Now I want you to tell me what this is all about!”

Wide eyed, Luna sipped her sparkling lemonade. “What all what is about?”

Hermione crossed her arms. “You know something. About the flowers.”

Luna lowered her glass and smiled. “Well.” She said a bit dreamily. “Not _who_ of course, but _what_ at least.”

“Spill!”

“It’s a Bouquet de Mots.” Luna said. “A very old pureblood tradition. Flowers have their own language you know, each one meaning a different thing.”

“The Victorian muggles had a similar tradition I think.” Hermione pondered. “They called them Tussie Mussies.”

“Where do you think they got it from?” Luna asked smiling.

“Never thought about it really.” Hermione shrugged. “But you think that’s what this is? A... Bouquet de Mots? Why is it a pureblood tradition?”

Luna nodded enthusiastically. “Well, pureblood society _is_ rather strict isn’t it? For quite a long time, they had to develop clever ways to speak to their lovers that would go unnoticed, and so the talking flower tradition was born, and people would send messages through the bouquets…”

Hermione thought this over. “It’s kind of… charming in an odd, and annoyingly repressive way. Why not just send an owl?”

“Because the mystery is half the fun!” Luna said. “You have to figure out his message!”

_Hmm. Interesting indeed._ Hermione thought. While a riddle to work out did appeal to her senses, there were two mysteries. What it meant and _who_ sent it. But first things first… 

“Luna, how do you know this is what this is and not just a simple bouquet?” Hermione asked, “Logically, it could--”

“The paper, the thin silvery ribbon – it’s charmed. It arrived much smaller didn’t it? And bloomed when you touched it??”

“Well, yes.”

Luna smiled.

“Oh.” Hermione waved a hand. “It could just be a coincidence. Who would want to send _me_ flowers? It wasn’t Ron, or any of my friends…”

It was Luna’s turn to shrug. “Maybe working out the what, will lead you to the who?”

Hermione bit her lip. She should just ignore it really. She didn’t need this distraction from finishing her school year and getting started with her internship. But the riddle of it tugged at her nonetheless.

“Do you… know what they mean? The flowers?” she asked hesitantly.

Luna smiled even broader if it was possible. “I do.” She gestured conspiratorially for Hermione to follow her, and they walked into the entry way where the newest bouquet sat on a thin entry table. Luna leaned in closer to the flowers and gestured for Hermione to do the same, and she whispered as if telling them secrets. 

“Rosemary has a lot of meanings. It represents friendship, loyalty, remembrance. Or carried at funerals, or weddings, as a symbol of love and fidelity.” Luna touched the pale-yellow petals gently. “Roses, yellow. Friendship and optimism. Sometimes it can mean joy, wisdom and power. Wisteria though… that is the most fun.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, finding herself genuinely intrigued. 

“Wisteria represents devotion, to a cause, or a person. Its deeper meaning changes according to color. These are blue. Blue also symbolizes new beginnings. But what is this?” Luna parted some of the flowers and there nestled in the middle, she hadn’t noticed. One single cluster of pink wisteria. “Pink represents blossoming feelings of love.”

Hermione blushed.

“So?” Luna asked, practically dancing on her toes. “What do you think his message is?”

“Well…” Hermione said hesitantly. “It would have to be someone who knows me… Perhaps… perhaps hope. Remembrance? Remembering the past, but… Hopeful? Optimism for… new beginnings.”

Luna looked knowingly. “And… the pink bloom?”

“Blossoming feelings of love.” She flushed a deeper shade of red. “But… hidden. He’s not sure how he feels. Or he’s not sure how _I_ feel. Or he does know, and he’s trying to hide how he feels… Or… oh I don’t know there’s so many possibilities…How am I supposed to put it together?”

But one thing she did know, she reflected later after everyone had gone, and she took the flowers with her as she retired for the night. Even though she had convinced herself before that it did not matter all that much… She _definitely_ wanted to know the identity of the person who sent them.

<https://ladyfrija.tumblr.com/post/187285631520/chapter-1-midsummer>


	2. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione attends Luna’s party for Draco and reflects on her shared past with someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter! Enjoy! As an aside, my fancast for an adult Theo Nott is William Beck.

<https://ladyfrija.tumblr.com/post/187285639690/chapter-2-midsummer>

“I think about the years I spent just passing through.  
I’d like the have the time I lost and give it back to you.  
But you just smile and take my hand.  
You’ve been there, you understand.  
It’s all part of a grander plan that is coming true.”  
**“Bless the Broken Road” by Rascal Flatts**

The first Saturday that everyone would be available, Luna hosted a birthday dinner for Draco at Malfoy Manor. Even though she knew none of her close friends, Harry, Ron, Ginny or Neville would be there (civility had its limits after all) Hermione acquiesced to Luna’s request for her assistance.

“I need help with the spell work!” Luna insisted,

“Luna.” Hermione said in a scolding tone when she arrived at the manor a full three hours before any of the guests arrived. “You’re plenty talented with spell work and I think you’re going to too much trouble! Draco isn’t going to _care_ about the decorations, and he’d probably just as soon as skip a party and just spend the time with you!”

Luna waved away her concerns and skipped down one of the many long halls to conjure up some streamers, leaving Hermione to charm a dozen or more dragon figurines into animated flying popping sparklers…

She surveyed their work later as Luna was off making a few last-minute preparations. It was colorful. It was eclectic, and very, very Luna. It was… it was…

It was a tore up mess.

Hermione shook her head, smiling hours later as guests began arriving. She had deliberately placed herself on a step halfway up the grand staircase near the entryway so she could observe the reactions of guests. Really… it might not have been so bad. But the bright rainbow streamers contrasted with the cold grey of the manor’s stone walls and floor, bright popping roman candle like firecrackers against gothic iron wall sconces, whimsical dragons weaving through large chandeliers firing their sparklers, and the eclectic oddly shaped balloons bobbing along the dark corridors alternating pictures of Draco’s face and “Happy Birthday Draco” on their charmed surfaces all created a mash up of extremes. 

It truly was awful. But Luna was Luna, and she certainly meant well, taking her love and devotion of Draco to the very limits of his patience with her style. Draco to his credit, surveyed the room with a restrained grimace before greeting his fiancé with a loving, beaming smile. His guests, however, were not so lucky. Theodore Nott’s neat eyebrows shot up under his hair line as he looked around upon entering, sharing a bemused and long-suffering look with Blaise Zabini, who had entered with him. Pansy Parkinson let out an audible scoff of disgust as Millicent Bulstrode snickered quietly as she came up behind Pansy. Goyle looked around the environment with the same dumbfounded, vacant look he always had, and the rest of the guests took in their surroundings with varying degrees of suspicion, as if sizing up enemy territory on a death march.

Hermione sighed from her shadowed, hidden spot, wondering if she really, truly had to expose herself to an entire evening in the company of a room full of Slytherins. 

Turned out it mattered little. Marcus Flint leered at her suggestively from where he was leaning against the stone of the large dining room fireplace, his eyes sweeping up and down her dark violet halter top dress and white shrug. It hugged her hips without being overly form fitting and flared out about mid-calf adding an attractive _swish_ that she was well pleased with. And yet one glance from Marcus and she wanted the dress to turn into a devil’s snare and swallow her up whole…

Besides him and the awful Pansy and Millicent snickering at her behind their hands chortling about who knew what, everyone left her alone. Only Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott risked conversation with her, and Hermione found she didn’t hate it, especially being left alone for a minute with the attractive younger Nott before he was called away to settle some disagreement about broomsticks and Quidditch. 

The assembled company was polite, or so it seemed. But as she went to the sidebar to check how much punch was left, she happened to overhear the tail end of a conversation that was clearly about Luna. 

“I’ll deal with her for Draco’s sake and only to stay in his field of vision.” Pansy was telling Millicent as she tapped her expensively manicured index finger against the crystal punch glass. “Maybe once he comes to his senses, I’ll only make him grovel a little bit.”

Millicent scoffed. “You must have been three shades of green when you heard.”

Pansy laughed snidely. “Green? As in jealous? Oh dear, Milly. No. True it was a surprise. I thought I’d have to compete with one of the Greengrass girls but no. Loony Lovegood of _all_ people. What _was_ Dray thinking.”

“Perhaps he wanted a real woman who made him happy instead of a fake, pretentious gold digger like you.” Hermione smiled sweetly.

Millicent and Pansy turned in surprise and Hermione without the slightest bit of contrition realized her inside thought had abruptly become an outside thought. Not giving the sputtering, blustering Slytherin-Barbie any time to rebut, and not thinking she could stand it one more minute, Hermione decided to exit without causing a scene.

“Luna, I’m going to take a moment and go for a bit of a walk. Some air you know?” Hermione excused herself. “I’ll be back to help you serve the food.”

“Oh sure.” Luna said in her tinkling airy voice. “You might find the library a nice place to take a breather.” She added with a wink.

Hermione smiled and exited quietly through the door and moved down the stairs to the main floor. The sounds of the conversation and laughter and the billiard game being struck up faded and Hermione took a deep breath in the dark corridor. Slowly she wandered the halls, her low heels echoing on the stone floor. Hermione came to a stop in front of the double doors that would have led to… that place. Thankfully, Luna had chosen to have the party in the formal dining room given its proximity to the billiard room, and she wouldn’t have to face the place where Bellatrix had tormented her. The glamoured scar on her forearm itched at the memory and she fought the urge to scrub at it anxiously. She turned away, giving herself a shake and refusing to dwell on it any longer....

It was surreal being back in this place, under so different circumstances…

Somewhere in her wanderings she had seemed to gravitate towards following Luna’s direction as her mind flitted across the myriad of her thoughts. She came to a large oak door and as the creak of it opening echoed through the hall, she peeked inside, and her breath caught excitedly to see the library Luna alluded to. All former distress forgotten, she stepped inside. 

She was not sure what she expected of the Malfoy estate library. Large to be sure. Perhaps more than a little pretentious. Maybe she imagined everything sleek, tidy, undefiled by touch. Yet here was a massive sprawling collection that she was certain rivaled even Hogwarts’ library. Tome upon tome sat on gleaming mahogany bookshelves that reached up two entire floors and looked as if it continued in either direction from the main room. High arching windows graced the back wall, thick green curtains drawn for the evening. Soft chairs, couches, and soft lantern light sat arranged in the center along with a small antique writing desk, and Hermione’s heart pounded excitedly at the sight.

Barely containing a squeal of delight, she advanced into the room, peeking curiously at the books on the coffee table between the chairs. A few had bookmarks, one, _The Iliad_, sat next to a half-drunk cup of coffee. A variety of titles, magical and muggle alike. She confessed herself surprised at that, but the intoxicating smell of parchment and book bindings soon chased it from her mind.

“There must be a lifetime’s worth of reading here!” she muttered, looking up the nearest bookshelf.

“_Several, in fact._”

The sound of the deep male voice suddenly emerging behind her startled her into spinning around, stumbling backwards into the table. She shrieked, about the crash down into it but the man’s hand reached out and caught her forearm in his grasp.

“Oh!” she breathed, righting herself and he released her slowly. Smoothing the front of her dress she looked up, knowing who she would see, his drawl unmistakable.

Given her proximity to Luna, and thereby Draco, she had seen him and conversed with him several times before. She’d had a few short exchanges with him, mundane small talk, even a spirited political debate or two, at a fundraiser or public event where he happened to be in attendance. But Lucius Malfoy was still Lucius Malfoy. She took the sight of him in surreptitiously. He was handsome and polished as he had ever been. His long hair was tied back away from his face. He made a roguish picture, black silk trousers, sleeves of his white under shirt rolled up, vest and outer robes she noticed were long discarded over the back of one of the chairs. Several of the buttons at the top of his shirt were undone, teasing her with a glimpse of his broad chest. Yes, he was handsome. She could admit that now, in her own mind at least. Where before, such an admission would have felt like nothing short of treason. He stood, in what would have not so long ago been much too close for comfort and sent her reaching for her wand. So strange how that seemed so removed from her now…

She couldn’t place the exact moment when she had begun to heal from the years of trauma and war. But she _could_ recall the exact moment she had begun to thaw towards Lucius Malfoy.

_It had been barely three days after the war had ended at the battle of Hogwarts. But already it had felt like an eternity had passed. Voldemort was defeated but it seemed the pain had only just begun as the full weight of the loss and violence had begun to set in. Clean up had barely started. Death Eaters were scattered. Everywhere they turned there were dead, missing people, and broken, decimated buildings. There was barely a survivor that had not lost their loved ones, a friend, their home, their job, or all the above…_

_Ron and Harry had joined the search for missing Death Eaters. The fractured and barely assembled Ministry and Auror office knew that rounding up any possible remaining death eaters and supporters was paramount, before they had time to regroup and begin their attacks anew. Hermione herself had stayed behind at Hogwarts to search through the rubble for survivors… or the dead. Bodies had been laid in a tight row as more and more were found. Scavenger birds began to circle…_

_The hours bled into days and as no one could eat in such an environment and sleep was elusive to everyone, Professor McGonagall and the others leading the search and recovery efforts ordered all the volunteers into shifts, and with a potent mixture of relief and hesitation, exhaustion and anxiety, she stumbled away from the once pristine castle and apparated to the ministry to check on Harry and Ron._

_It took some detective work, but she found out that they were in a small interrogation room in the lower floors. Lucius Malfoy had been dragged in (literally, it seemed) to be questioned on likely whereabouts of the remaining Death Eaters. Since she had no home to go to, no family to return to, none but Ron and Harry, she needed to see them with her own eyes. _

_Her skin crawled as she passed the large grotesque statue of the muggles being crushed beneath the boots of their “betters” and she quickened her tired pace, her numb mind barely registering the hum and whirl of the lifts as she made her way lower and got herself to the interrogation room, coffees in hand._

_Ron was pacing angrily in the small hallway outside a large barred door, his face nearly as red as his hair. His eyes softened a few degrees when he saw her and she slumped into his open arms, laying her head against his shoulder. “Are you alright Mi’ne?”_

_She was so exhausted and emotional she couldn’t even manage to register her usual annoyance at his tired, even MORE shortened abbreviation of that grating nickname. “I’m fine.” She answered. “You?”_

_“Ugh.” He grumbled irritably, “I’d be better if I thought we were getting anywhere. I had to step out before I killed the bastard.”_

_Hermione turned her head without straightening up and looked through the one-way glass of the interrogation room and holding cell. She could see Malfoy, sitting at the table in the middle of the room, empty for all but the chair he was slumped in and a small stiff cot in the corner. Harry was speaking animatedly, a furious expression on his face as Malfoy glared up at him angrily and began shouting back._

_“Not going well?” she asked._

_Ron scoffed. “Insists he doesn’t know even a third of what we want to know. Lying prat. Probably just thinks he can rally the troops and take Voldemort’s place as Git-in-Charge.”_

_Hermione straightened; arms folded across her stomach as she stared in through the window. “You stay here.” She said. “I’m going to tell Harry he should take a break. Have you guys even slept?”_

_“I don’t even know. Have you?” Ron asked, rubbing the back of his neck. _

_Hermione took a deep breath, desperate to bring oxygen into her dust, decay and smoke singed lungs. “Go scrounge up some food, we’ll rally back at… Merlin, where is it even safe?”_

_“Let’s go to the Burrow. It’s the only sure thing.”_

_Hermione nodded and handed Ron one of the coffee cups from the carboard carrier. “Burrow then. Food. Sleep. Start over tomorrow.”_

_As Ron retreated slowly down the hallway to the lifts, Hermione took another deep breath and opened the door into the small dark room. Harry stopped mid-sentence whatever he was saying to Malfoy and turned. The anger fled Harry’s face when he caught sight of her, and she gave him a half-hearted smile. _

_“Hermione!” he said, eyes widening in surprise. “Everything alright?”_

_“Yeah.” She said quietly, blinking her tired eyes. “Came to see how things were going with you and Ron.”_

_Harry tossed a scowl over his shoulder. “Could be better.”_

_Harry was saying something to her, but she didn’t hear. Her limited attention span was captured by the other man in the room. It was strange, she thought numbly. After all he had been guilty of… she SHOULD feel nothing for him. But she remembered him, from not so long ago, a prisoner in his own home. A wreck of a man. A wasting shadow of his former self. He was even worse now. His son was injured and in St. Mungoes, just one of the many injured hurried off to the hospital. His wife, dead, murdered on the spot as soon as Voldemort had realized she had lied about Harry being alive. And she could see the uncertainty and the grief from that behind the rage and exhaustion in his hollow, darkened eyes. _

_He met her gaze and she stared back, looking as weary as she was, and somehow, looking at him she felt even more tired. His face rough, unshaven, hair tangled. His clothing was stiff with the dust and blood of battle and destruction. He was bruised and battered – he looked as if he’d been tortured. Not to mention beaten. The magical chains binding him seemed pointless, his shoulder looked dislocated, his opposite wand hand broken. Whoever had brought him in had taken out a significant portion of their frustrations on him._

_When would all of it end?_

_“Harry, can you go?” she asked suddenly._

_Harry stopped talking abruptly and looked at her as if she’d sprouted a second head. “Hermione…”_

_“He’s crippled, wandless and in magically binding chains, I don’t think I’m in any danger.” She insisted. “Here.” She handed him one of the remaining coffees and nodded wearily at the door. “Ron’s getting food and going to the Burrow. Go on. We all need some sleep. I’ll be right behind you.”_

_Harry hesitated but after a few moments nodded, muttering under his breath something unintelligible, and left the room. Hermione waited until she heard his footsteps retreat before she slid the chair out opposite Malfoy’s and sat down._

_“So, the third comes now.” Malfoy bit, his eyes flashing. “I’ve had three days of bad cop, worse cop, witch, what possible role are YOU to play?”_

_Hermione stared at the broken man and could not muster up any of the rage she knew she should be feeling. Her eyes caught sight again of the injured shoulder that had been left to atrophy and fester. After a moment’s pause, she took her wand and ignoring Malfoy’s sudden look of absolute shock, she muttered a healing charm as she dragged her wand across the flesh and muscle. He grit his teeth against the pulling and mending, but he bore the pain, and likewise remained still as she took his rough, injured hand in hers, holding it gently as she did the same to the broken bones there. _

_He stared at her, flexing the newly repaired hand gingerly, testing it, the question in his eyes that he wouldn’t voice: Why? She didn’t know either. But she did it anyway. _

_On impulse she slowly slid her coffee cup across the table to him, and he looked at it suspiciously as if she might have poisoned it. “I’m sorry about your wife.” She said quietly._

_His eyes snapped up to hers and she held his softened gaze. She transfigured the cardboard coffee carrier into a bowl and filled it with water. “It’s not perfect, but you’ll be able to clean up a bit.” She then gestured to the cot in the corner as she stood up. “Try and get some rest.” She murmured before leaving the room…_

“Ms. Granger?”

His voice in the here and now snapped her out of her deep thoughts, and she blushed to realize he was looking at her expectantly. 

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes. Hermione. Please.” She said, a little too cheerfully. “I… I’m sorry, I’m just so embarrassed.” She turned and picked up the _Iliad_ from the small puddle of coffee that had gathered around it. “You happen upon me sneaking into your library, and then I ruin a classic…”

He smirked and shook his head. “Hardly. The books are charmed to repel such affronts to their integrity.” He took the tome from her hands and flipped the pages gently, showing her the dry stainless pages. “See?”

She smiled. “I’m sorry to intrude, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Nonsense.” He said, moving past her and taking his wand out to cast a drying charm on the table and the coffee vanished along with the cup. “You are a guest here. There are far worse places you could sneak into if you wished to discover our dark hidden secrets.”

Hermione looked up in surprise but as he turned around, he winked at her in jest and her breath caught oddly at the amused sparkle in his eye.

“And please. Call me Lucius.”

Hermione quietly cleared her throat. “Lucius. Well, you look as though you were enjoying a quiet, comfortable evening.” She smiled awkwardly and began backing up slowly, gesturing towards the door and clasping her hands nervously. “I’ll… go. I’m sorry again.”

She had only just reached the door handle when she stopped and turned back, brow furrowed. “There’s a party going on out there.”

Lucius tossed the book onto the table and leaned back against the arm of the chair nearest him, a low chuckle rising in his throat. “Yes. I know.”

“Well I mean…” she came back across the room, “it’s your son’s birthday. Shouldn’t you be…. I don’t know, out… there?”

He smiled in bemusement and took a few steps nearer to her. “I tend to make myself scarce at these types of events. Less uncomfortable for everyone involved. And…” he dropped his voice conspiratorially, “My house looks like a bomb under an unreasonably colorful circus train detonated in it.”

A short, sharp laugh broke from her lips. “Luna has eccentric tastes and she did seem to get rather… excited about the prospect of having a birthday party for Draco.”

“Yes well…” Lucius looked away and tapped his fingers against the back of the chair. “Odd as the girl can be, a part of me is glad of it. She makes Draco smile, and the boy deserves some happiness.” 

The look on his face tugged at her. Only a few years prior, she might have said he deserved whatever anguish he was feeling over his son’s lost childhood… but war had left her tired of ugly thoughts and harsh words.

“They must have been a comfort to each other.” Hermione said, as he turned away and sat down on the couch opposite the coffee table. “Before.”

“Yes, I think they were… So.” He continued forcing a smile. “What brings you here? Should you not be out there enjoying the party?”

“Oh.” Hermione said, casting a glance towards the door. “I… needed a moment.”

He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Well, I just… it’s been a long week, you know, what with final exams for the year, and I’ve had all sorts of mixed feelings about leaving Hogwarts, and starting at the ministry, and I do wonder how I did on my exams, but I will have to wait a month, maybe more, and that has caused all sorts of anxiety, and you _would_ think a party would be just the thing, but I mostly came to help Luna, and almost no one in that room actually likes me, and that horrible Pansy and Millicent, snickering and jeering, and I can’t exactly hex them here in someone else’s house, at a birthday party of all things, and—” Hermione stopped short. “I am so sorry. I’m rambling.”

He smiled charmingly and Hermione’s breath caught. “’Ramble’ all you like, my dear, I do find you an intriguing creature.”

“Me?” she asked wide eyed.

“Yes, you.” He admitted, “Heroine of the war, confidant and trusted companion of the chosen one. You have seen and done more than most twice your age, endured untold hardships and yet you can still find it in your heart to be kind and gracious.”

“Oh…” she breathed, looking down at the floor briefly. “I haven’t done anything as much as all that.”

“On the contrary.” He stood up and crossed over to her. “I confess myself surprised at your passionate defense of my son at his trial.”

Hermione swallowed at the sudden closeness of him and the intense look on his face as his eyes bore into hers. She could smell the firewhiskey he was drinking, mingling with his cologne and another scent altogether his own.

“Well. It seemed the right thing to do… it… it was nothing.” She said quietly, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

He took her hand and a shiver went through her. “It was everything. It was my son’s freedom.” He said, brushing a kiss across her knuckles and a knot twisted in her stomach. “Thank you.”

She blushed. “You’re welcome.”

Was she crazy or did he hesitate, just a moment, before he released her hand? What was happening here? And why did she desperately want him to take her hand again?

“I trust you will be at the wedding?” he asked, retreating a few steps and clearing his throat.

Hermione smiled, “Of course! And… speaking of Luna and Draco, I should get back. I told Luna I would help her and too much longer and I will be failing miserably with my assistant-hostess duties.”

Lucius gave a bemused half bow in farewell as Hermione backed up slowly towards the door, fumbling clumsily at the door handle. She had just grasped it and opened it to leave when she paused and looked back. “Will you be at the Midsummer festivities, that the ministry is having?”

“I received an invitation, but--”

“Oh, then perhaps I will see you there?” she smiled brilliantly, not giving him a chance to object.

Another odd shiver went through her as his eyes brightened with the small smile that came across his lips. “If you promise to grace me with another of _those_ smiles, Ms. Granger, then yes. You shall see me there.”


	3. Significance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione considers a few possibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, sorry.

<https://ladyfrija.tumblr.com/post/187285646380/chapter-3-midsummer>

“Anyone can tell you you’re pretty.  
And you get that all the time, I know you do.  
But your beauty is deeper than the makeup.  
And I want to show you what I see tonight.”  
**“Wanted” by Hunter Hayes**

Hermione was surprised at just how quickly the end of term had crept up on her. After the intense last few years she had had with her friends and the horror of the last year of the war, it had been surreal being back at Hogwarts this year. Surrounded by people but somehow still feeling alone, she saw by herself in her head girl dorm room, thinking of how life had begun to stack up… Anxiety began to twist in her stomach again as she thought about her exam results, her upcoming internship at the ministry and what the rest of her life might look like.

A breath of excitement flitted through her when she heard an owl tap at the window, momentarily thinking it might be another delivery from her “mystery suitor” as Luna had begun to call him. But upon seeing a letter clutched by the owl, her heart sank. Probably another letter from Ron, though why he wasn’t sending it with the Weasley’s owl Errol, she couldn’t be sure.

It wasn’t that she was opposed to the idea of romance. She wouldn’t mind someone to talk to, go out with, to love. And it wasn’t that she was too invested in her studies and the prospect of ministry work to be bothered, though both those things were important to her… She just felt things had been too strained and too sudden between she and Ron. And the niggling worries that they both wanted different things out of life would not stay out of her ear.

She had plans. Ambitions. Ron had taken a year as an Auror true. But he was preparing to start work in a joke shop of all places, and wanted to marry and have children with a wife who stayed home right away… She just couldn’t see herself in that life yet. She needed someone confident, intelligent, with goals and success of his own, someone secure in himself who wouldn’t be threatened by her work or ambitions. Ron was good at heart… but she had never been able to shake the feelings, knowing that Ron resented her for her cleverness and successes. Ever since Ron had proposed going steady, and her response had been… less than enthusiastic, Ron had been drifting between his typical Ronald Weasley temper and snappishness, wistful begging and hopeful cajoling.

It was becoming exhausting.

So, with trepidation, she unfurled the scroll, gave the owl a treat and began reading. Her brow furrowed however when she realized it was not in fact Ronald, but a script she did not recognize. 

_“Ms. Granger.  
Forgive me for being forward, but it was pleasant to see you again at Draco’s birthday party last week. I was intrigued by your plans to overhaul the control of magical creatures department at the ministry and had some things I hoped to discuss. Would you consider meeting me for coffee in Hogsmeade? Eagerly awaiting your reply. Theodore Nott.”_

A little dumbfounded, Hermione stared blankly out the window. Theo had been polite enough at the party, but she was surprised he had taken such an interest. Still, he was well connected and intelligent, and it wouldn’t hurt to get a jump start on her plans for her internship if he was inclined to offer her advice.

Deciding to be bold and go for it, she wrote back a polite acceptance and sent it off with the waiting owl. That momentary distraction out of the way, she turned back to her previous thought, affectionately touching the petals of the yellow roses studded throughout the enchanted bouquet. She was embarrassed to admit how much the topic had invaded her thoughts, and her recollections drifted to the first time the bouquet had arrived.

The timing had been perfect really. It was a moment like this, when her mind had begun to wander. She had been sitting in this very room, several weeks ago on May 2nd. She was in a bad place and had been so since she realized the date. The war and the many tragedies that led to and stemmed from it were never far from her mind. How could they be? But with the anniversary of the end of the war, everything seemed more present than ever. She sat alone in her room, her head on her knees, crying tears she couldn’t shed in front of anyone but herself.

She was Hermione Granger. She had it all together, the brightest witch of her age… The one with all the answers: Except when it came to her managing her own feelings and heartbreak and the overwhelming and oppressive weight of grief.

And then, the soft _tap tap tap_ of an owl at the window. She got up in a huff, expecting another missive from Ron, surprised and intrigued to find the small bouquet. Refreshed at the burst of scent that tickled her nose when she touched it. Cheered as it blossomed from a tiny palm sized bouquet into a sprawling display of delight and color. It was impossible of course… but it had almost been as if someone knew the significance of the date and knew she would need the encouragement. Someone to take the time to reach out and ask if she was well…

Hm. Perhaps _that_ was it.

Leaning over the side of her bed and reaching into her bag, Hermione pulled out the book she had borrowed from Professor Sprout. Because if there was one thing she knew how to do – it was research. The bits she had read, and Luna’s words played over in her mind and she tried to decipher the message.

The yellow roses were the most straightforward. Muted but cheerful, they seemed only to symbolize friendship and joy. Plutonic emotions that carried no significant weight. It was the pairing of the yellow roses with the much more emotive wisteria and rosemary that taxed her brain. _The date it first arrived must have been significant to both of us._ She thought. Remembrance is the most likely meaning conveyed. So how did it connect to the others?

“Remembrance.” She mused aloud. “Of the end of the war, possibly. It can’t be a coincidence they arrived one year to the day it ended. The roses… perhaps meant to be a well wish, a hope that I would be feeling happiness.” But that word Luna had described them with… Optimism. 

“Hope.” Hermione whispered, touching the petals gently. “Hope for…” She touched the pale blue wisteria. “New beginnings. Hope for a fresh start. And… she looked deeper, into the single pink bloom of wisteria hidden in the center. “Hope for love…”

There were other possibilities. But she felt confident in her conclusion. Her heart pounded as she scrambled from her bed, a thought striking her. Professor Sprout had invited her to use the green houses at her leisure, and she took advantage of her invitation just before dinner and went down in search of her chosen flowers. It took some hunting, but eventually, she found the ones she was looking for. Selecting blue varieties of the anemone, iris and hydrangeas she hurried back to her room and began working on the charm she had deconstructed from the last bouquet’s ribbon. With a little more practice, she was sure she could get it.

Skipping dinner entirely as she got lost in her task, finally it was done. The flowers arranged, the ribbon in place, the charmed bouquet shrunk to a parcel size, and she waited. She could not answer feelings of love. She obviously had no idea who her mystery sender was. But… she had a message of her own to convey…

_Thank you for understanding. I felt lost and alone. But there is hope after all. _

She did not have to wait long, and the next morning she was awoken by a soft tap and the same sweet, tawny owl returned, the same bouquet strapped to her leg. Smiling, Hermione took it, and patting the owl on the head, extended a treat to her. “I have a return message for you.”

The owl obligingly held out her leg and Hermione nervously lifted her return message. Wondering if she had deciphered the meanings correctly, worried she was botching it, wondering if he would respond, she tied it securely to the owl along with a short-written note. _“I hope that I finally understand your message.”_

As Hermione watched the owl fly away, trepidation settled over her. What if she was wrong? What if she’d gotten it all upside down? What if she never found out who he was? What if he didn’t respond?

Hermione paced back and forth in the small room, arms crossed nervously, and she practically jumped out of her skin when a sudden tap announced the arrival of the owl again. Throwing the window open, her heart leapt when she saw an entirely different bouquet along with a small bit of parchment.

Breathless, she sat cross legged on her bed ad began flipping through the flower book furiously. 

She studied the bouquet, a strange, exotic looking collection of King Protea, and snap dragons nestled in a plethora of Queen Anne’s lace. Courage. Change, and Transformation. Complexity, a sanctuary, graciousness and strength. She blushed as she looked at the short note again and smiled. The bold, masculine script declared:

_“All this you have been to me, more than you know.”_

She held the blooms in her hand, staring out the window in thought, wondering who she ever could have had such an impact on…


	4. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna and Draco tie the knot; Hermione considers her romantic life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say, I enjoyed dreaming up a ceremony for Luna and Draco. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it!

<https://ladyfrija.tumblr.com/post/187285653715/chapter-4-midsummer>

“Everything changes but beauty remains.  
Something so tender I can’t explain.  
Well I may be dreaming but until I’m awake, can we make this dream last forever?  
And I’ll cherish all the love that we share.  
Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this.  
Some people search forever for that one special kiss.  
I can’t believe it’s happening to me.  
Some people wait a lifetime, for a moment like this.”  
**“A Moment Like This” by Kelly Clarkson**

That was the last Hermione heard from her mystery sender for the rest of the week. Though she couldn’t help a small hope that he would contact her again, maybe even with a real letter, it was probably just as well. She was unbelievably busy, with the lower year students extra rambunctious and mischievous the closer end of term came. The confiscation of contraband items alone was exhaustingly time consuming...

Being an adult, she had special permission to leave Hogwarts for Luna’s wedding, and as she got ready that Friday late afternoon in her dorm, she found herself looking forward to the downtime. Slipping into her bridesmaid’s dress, she shook her head in amused disbelief. For something Luna was involved in, Hermione decided it looked relatively… well… normal. She smoothed the skirt over her hips, checking its fit in the floor length mirror near her door. The thin spaghetti straps over her shoulders and crisscrossing over her back would be cool in the warm summer air, and it was just enough to hold the ruched bodice firmly in place over her breasts. The light from the sun rays beaming through the window caught the pretty unicorn pendant tucked in a silvery crescent moon necklace at her throat. Luna had given it to her, insisting it would match her “theme”. What that meant, she would have to wait and see.

Hermione turned sideways in the mirror, the chic, sheer folds of the layered skirts brushing her legs cascading down into an asymmetrical hem, the short end slitting up to her mid-thigh, the rest covering her attractively. It felt demure but sexy and was really very pretty, even if it was an obnoxiously hot pink that Hermione had no taste for. She finished off the look with silver strappy heels and diamond, tear drop earrings. Checking the time, she was pleased to see she had plenty of time to spare. Barely 2 in the afternoon, the ceremony would begin at 3, she had left enough time to charm her hair into gentle curls. Satisfied with the end result, she picked up her silver clutch and started towards the door when a tapping at the window caused her to pause and turn back.

Relieved not to see the Weasley owl, but disappointed that it was not the tawny owl of her secret admirer, she went to the eagle owl curiously, noticing the ministry crest on the scroll. The owl took off immediately upon Hermione taking the parchment leaving her to unfurl it in anticipation. 

Hermione let out a gasp and slammed the parchment down on the windowsill. Oh merlin! It was her NEWTS! It was incredibly early to be getting them, but here they were! Her stomach immediately twisted into knots. Oh, why did she look at them now! What if they were failing, what if she had botched them horribly, what if – 

_Ok. Stop. Get it together._

Hermione took a deep, slow, steadying breath and screwing her eyes shut, turned the paper over. One eye, then the next, she looked down at the scroll and grinned ear to ear.

_Ancient Runes - Outstanding_  
Potions – Exceeds Expectations  
Charms - Outstanding  
DADA - Exceeds Expectations  
Herbology – Outstanding  
Transfiguration - Outstanding  
Arithmancy - Outstanding 

Hermione jumped into the air, squealing with delight. Thank god! There would be time to celebrate later, but right now, there was no time to process. Grateful it was good news, and with the emotional high and relief flooding through her, optimism for the future, Hermione practically skipped down to the main door and on to Hogsmeade ready to use the portkey-invitation to Draco and Luna’s wedding.

She arrived at Malfoy manor by 2:30. The ceremony was to be outdoors; Hermione was sure this was at Luna’s request. She found Ginny quickly in the hedged lawn to the left of the walkway, at their place behind a large white lattice privacy screen at the beginning of the aisle. Bright red roses wove themselves on thick vines through the panels, and hundreds of petals preceded them down the aisle towards a stone font at the end. Peering surreptitiously around the edge of the screen, Hermione could see nearly a hundred guests split on either side of the aisle of foliage. Two torches on stone pillars standing just above where a reasonably tall man could reach flanked the font. It was simple but elegant and she enjoyed the scenery as she chatted with Ginny and Hannah. 

“Have you seen Luna?” Hermione asked Ginny after a while. 

“I did.” Ginny said, handing Hermione a bouquet, “Right before she went to dress.”

“Shouldn’t we be helping her with that?” Hermione asked, poking suspiciously at the oddly colored collection of roses. 

“She insisted she didn’t want anyone seeing her before the ceremony.” Hannah answered

“Why is this rainbow colored and why… are those frogs?” Hermione asked.

“Mhm.” Ginny said gesturing with her own bouquet. “Moon frogs. Not real of course. Little conjured charms… I have no idea.”

Hermione nodded, completely unsurprised by the little charmed, crystalline creatures hopping in and out of the rainbow-colored petals. It was a very good thing she didn’t have a strong aversion to amphibians, or the effect would be altogether disconcerting…

A sudden crescendo of music coming from the pipe organ that had been brought out cut into her thoughts.

Oop.” Ginny said, “Show time.”

Hermione patted her hair, straightened her shoulders, exchanged a last-minute attire check with Ginny and waited for her moment. The music, serene and lilting, began and Hermione gripped her bouquet and stepped out into the petal strewn grass. The guests turned politely, smiling and nodding in greeting and she smiled back. Halfway up the aisle she heard Ginny begin her own trek behind her. 

She caught sight of Ron, Harry, Neville and several other old school mates on the Bride’s side of the audience and smiled brightly at them, but then as she looked back up towards her destination, her attention was captured elsewhere. Theo Nott stood at the end with Gregory Goyle and Marcus Flint. Theo caught her eye with a wink and a sly smile. She smiled politely at him, avoided Goyle’s sneer, and continued on. She paused, almost imperceptivity, when her eyes met Lucius’ as he stood next to his son. A small smile curved his lips and brightened his eyes as he inclined his head to her. She smiled back before turning to stand off to the opposite side of the font to await Ginny and Hannah, trying not to appear as though she were analyzing him. The men, Draco, Lucius, Theo, Marcus and Goyle all wore simple fitted black dress robes. But somehow Lucius looked particularly breathtaking to her. His long blonde hair tied back, his strong figure tall and confident, his face fixed with polite expectation, even as she saw him steal an appraising glance at her as certainly as she was stealing glances at him…

The music changed and Hermione looked down the aisle as the guests all stood for the bride’s procession. Xenophilius Lovegood appeared around the corner of the lattice screen in eccentric, but not entirely unreasonable beige and turquois dress robes, the bright beige and sunny yellow at the collar and shoulders, blending to blue and the blue darkening to a midnight hue towards the bottom hem and the fabric was dotted with small celestial moons and stars. His daughter on his arm, he looked very much the wistful father, smiling and beaming at Luna, preparing to regretfully part with her. Of the lady in question, there were a few gasps and murmurs, and from the groom’s side a stifled snicker or two, and Hermione and Ginny exchanged a quick “oh dear” look before arresting their features into one of pleasantry. 

Luna floated down the aisle on her father’s arm in a full skirted gown, each segment of fabric a different color of the rainbow. The square neckline flared out into puffy shoulders that nearly dwarfed her small frame. She held a similar bouquet to theirs but atop her ethereal blonde hair perched a ghastly arrangement of what looked like a crown of silver unicorn horns. 

Curious, Hermione looked covertly over at the Malfoy men and had to stifle a laugh. Draco looked absolutely gob smacked. His mouth hung open in shock and his face was frozen in horror. His father, wide eyed in surprise, but otherwise unaffected, nudged Draco to life and collected himself. Draco looked over at his father and straightened and smiled at his betrothed.

The closer she got, the more unbelievable the gown became, the bodice a conglomeration of crisscrossed color and bedecked with shimmering multicolored spangles that continued down the length of the gown in less concentrated numbers.

Thankfully, by time the Lovegood’s arrived at the altar, everyone within sight of the bride had gotten over their surprise and were smiling politely, and Hermione couldn’t stop a wistful brief frown at Draco’s obviously infatuated grin and brightly shining eyes as he awaited his bride.

When Lovegood tearfully handed Luna off to Draco and the two of them stepped forward closer to the large stone font, Luna’s father moved to stand near Hermione and the other girls, Hermione found herself nearly face to face with Lucius. He stared at her intently with the barest hint of a smile and Hermione’s stomach fluttered oddly.

_What is wrong with you?_ She scolded herself.

The ceremony began and everyone was seated. They had chosen a traditional Druid priest over a ministry officiate, and Hermione was interested to see an old-world magical bonding. The priest wore long black robes with silver runes embroidered in the sleeves and collar. He stepped up behind the stone font, which Hermione noted was empty and opened his arms, palms up.

“Honored guests of this most blessed event. We come together today to witness the handfasting and the eternal bonding of Draco Lucius Malfoy, and Luna Emaline Lovegood. It is a bond not entered into lightly, and you vow with your presence here, before your friends, loved ones, the elements and the ancient sacred magic that defines you both, that you come willingly to be bonded thus.” Turning his attention to Lucius and Mr. Lovegood respectively, he gestured to the empty stone font. “Your respective patriarchs will now come forward, to pour water into the font, signifying your families’ blessing and acceptance.”

Hermione watched as the two older men stepped up to the altar and each taking an earthenware pitcher and poured water into the basin. The priest took his wand and cast a blessing over the water, and, handing Draco a small goblet, directed him to fill the goblet and each of them drank from it.

“Draco and Luna…” the priest said after they had each drank the water. “You have taken a vow of love. For a year and a day, you have been handfasted, and now you have desired to make this sacred and lifelong commitment. Is this your desire?”

When Draco and Luna had answered in the affirmative, the priest smiled and took their wrists and wrapped a cloth around them. From his robes he produced an ornately carved wooden box and upon opening it, pulled out a long fiber cord, and as the priest touched each colored bead along the length of it, he wrapped it around their joined wrists and hands.

“Red, for courage. Orange, for kindness. Blue for patience and understanding.”

Hermione, Ginny and Hannah smiled.

“These you have chosen to represent your love.” He finished and intoned a blessing. “Now you are bound, one to the other, with a tie not easy to break. Take the time of binding, before the final vows are made to learn what you need to know. To grow in wisdom and love. This you have done, and now come to be blessed. That your marriage will be strong that your love will last, in this life and beyond. So mote it be.”

“So mote it be.” The guests responded.

Hermione had remained pleasantly and happily attentive but found herself tearing up during the exchanging of the rings. Draco and Luna’s beaming tearful exchange caused an ache to settle firmly in her heart. Happy but wistful, she watched in good natured envy as Draco tenderly and reverently placed a ring on her finger with a traditional verse. 

“I take you my heart, at the rising of the moon and the setting of the stars. To love and to honor through all that may come. Through all our lives together, in all our lives, may we be reborn that we may meet and know, and love again and remember.”

The rest of the ceremony was a bit blurry to be honest, but before she knew it, they were being ushered down the lush green, rose strewn lawn. Lucius and Mr. Lovegood followed Draco and Luna out and Theo stepped forward to offer Hermione his arm. She smiled and brushed her hair behind her ear as he winked at her, and she said a silent prayer for poor Ginny and Hannah behind her being “escorted” by Goyle and Flint. 

As the guests were mingling, and Draco and Luna were preparing for the reception in the gardens, Hermione took a moment before rounding the corner. The smile on her face told Hermione all she needed to know about Luna’s happiness. She was truly blessed. Hermione wondered if the enduring love they paid homage to in their vows was within reach for just anyone… or if only a select few were destined for it…

Her train of thought was interrupted as a hand appeared in front of her, extending a white handkerchief. She looked up in mild surprise to see Theo Nott standing in front of her.

“Forgive me for being forward.” Theo apologized. “You looked like you needed it.”

“Thank you.” She said, taking the offered handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes. 

“Happy tears, I would hope?” he asked, running a hand through his short brown hair in mild discomfort.

“Oh yes…” Hermione said quickly. “Luna deserves nothing but happiness.”

He grinned. “Nothing like a wedding to stir up all sorts of wistful sappiness, huh?”

Hermione laughed. “Indeed.” 

“I wanted to tell you; I really enjoyed our conversation the other day at coffee. Maybe you’d care to do it again some time?” 

“So did I.” she told him sincerely. Was Theo Nott asking her out on a date? “And I’d like that?”

“Great.” He grinned. “Look for my owl! I’ll sod off now, I see your friends coming.” Then he winked before turning away. “to new beginnings.”

Hermione watched him go, brow furrowed as she dragged her thumb absentmindedly across the handkerchief. The phrase caught her off guard and stirred up memories of the bouquet sitting back in her dorm room window. Was she completely bonkers? Could Theo Nott be her mystery sender? She had never thought him given to such things. And until he had grown up quite a bit, would never associate him with anything remotely classy.

They had really had very few interactions since Hogwarts. Up until Draco’s party he hadn’t said more than a few sentences to her. Why would he of all people carry some secret torch? True, at their coffee meeting when conversation had steered further away from ministry affairs and political pointers and closer to personal, who are you with and what are you up to, she had thought perhaps he was interested in pursuing a closer acquaintance. He was sophisticated to be sure, at least now, showing her an altogether different side of himself as of late and quite grown out of his boyish weediness, and interested in her up and coming career at the ministry. But… still… 

“Hey Mione.” She heard Ron say as he, Ginny and Harry approached her outside the hedgerow. “What’d Nott want?”

“Oh, just chatting.” Hermione said cheerfully. “Hi Harry.”

“Hey Hermione.” He greeted her, hugging her. “You ok?”

“Yeah, fine.” Hermione waved him off. “Just got a bit caught up in all the wedding vibes.” Hermione pocketed the handkerchief determined to give it some real thought later.

Harry gestured for them to go on, and Hermione shook the thoughts off and preceded he and Ron with Ginny next to her.

“Bit strange being back at Malfoy manor like everything’s just peachy, in’it?” Ron grumbled to Harry.

Hermione didn’t hear Harry’s response – something about letting it go and being on good behavior for Luna. As she walked through the space in the hedges, she gasped. The garden was stunning. Though she had never seen it beyond the main walk to the front door in much darker times, she figured it had been completely reimagined. A large stone fountain in the center was slowly pouring water, cascading over enchanted lighting, creating a romantic warm glow. Several couples were already dancing to the lively music being played by an elegant orchestra seated in the far corner. Round tables with white linen tablecloths dotted the lawn, adorned with tall silver candelabras casting light over the place settings. They beautifully reflected the light emanating from graceful orbs floating around above them among the tree branches. 

Harry was clearly uncomfortable, and Ron was sullen, but they sat together with Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Hannah and rallied tolerably well for Luna. A lavish meal of several courses was served out of thin air. It was delicious, and Hermione enjoyed chatting with her friends during dinner but eventually she tired of sitting and went to mingle during dessert. She gave a beaming Luna a hug and her well wishes, and just as she was about to return to her table, she felt a gentle touch at her elbow.

There was a funny little jump in her heart when she came face to face with Lucius. “May I offer you a coffee?”

Hermione smiled. He had eschewed the formal outer robes and was dressed simply in a crisp black fitted suit, waist coat and tie. “Yes, thank you.” She said, accepting the steaming cup. “I’ll just get some – “

“I think you may find it… acceptable.” He said cryptically.

Raising an eyebrow Hermione took a sip of the drink and she looked up in surprise. “Three sugars, no cream and a hint of toffee flavoring. How could you possibly know that?”

“I remember. It was your cup you handed me all that time ago, after all.” He said, his eyes dancing.

Hermione looked down at the cup in her hands, a small blush creeping into her cheeks. “You remember, from a year gone.”

“How could I forget?” His face grew serious as he studied her. “I… I am not sure if I ever thanked you. Such a small gesture of compassion and understanding to one such as myself… To a casual observer some would say meaningless… Thank you, Ms. Granger.”

“Well…” she shifted from one foot to another. “What they were doing to you was doing no good and--”

“Don’t.” he said sternly, “Don’t sell yourself short. You did much more than that. You made me feel human again. And with a clear head, I was able to give Potter the information he wanted to find those who were still a threat.”

Hermione found herself oddly transfixed by the intense look in his eyes and she mouthed silently a moment before answering. “I… had no idea of such a small thing having so much impact.”

“It did.” He assured her. “But then I see I’ve embarrassed you. Forgive me.”

“Oh, not at all.” Hermione smiled. “I… am just usually only ever praised for my cleverness.”

“Not without good reason.” Lucius said, raising his own coffee cup towards her. “Speaking of… are you still waiting for your NEWT results?”

“No actually.” Hermione answered cheerfully. “They arrived just earlier today. And so early too, a pleasant surprise.”

“Indeed? And will you make me guess the results?”

Hermione couldn’t help a small laugh. “No. Outstanding I’m pleased to say. With a few exceeds expectations…”

“Congratulations Ms. Granger.” Lucius smiled. “I am sure your professors expected nothing less.”

“I should congratulate you as well.” Hermione said in a rush, hoping to somehow talk passed the fluttering, twisting in her stomach. “On your son’s marriage. The ceremony was beautiful and your graciousness in the reception is remarkable."

"Well." he said a bit blandly, looking around. "Appearances and all. Its not exactly what I would consider standards befitting my son, but, I wish him to be happy, and he wishes his bride to be so. So." he smiled at her. "Here we are."

"I know this can’t be easy…" Hermione acknowledged, "The looks, and whispers…”

He frowned. “Once again, your undeserved empathy leaves me at a loss for words Ms. Granger. Truth is I deserve more than cruel words and sidelong glances. I am glad though that Draco seems to have been… forgiven.”

“Anyone who observes with a cool head can see you have tried to be a different man.” Hermione said encouragingly. 

He smiled his thanks but then seemed distracted. “It is absolutely _ghastly_.” He said quietly.

Hermione looked over her shoulder to where he was looking at Luna and stifled a laugh. “Yes. It is. Luna is a lovely girl. Even if her tastes are… unique.”

Hermione stopped short, the smile fading a bit from her face when she noticed Lucius staring at her in a most odd fashion. “M-Mr. Malfoy?” she asked uncertainly.

“Lucius, I told you. Please…” he said a bit distractedly. “You…_you_, are lovely, Hermione.” Hermione held her breath as he took her hand in his and her body flooded with warmth, her heart pounding. “That dress is stunning on you.”

Hermione smiled pleasantly at the compliment. “Yes, well, given the bride, I should be very grateful I’m not wearing fairy wings or some such nonsense.”

Lucius laughed and she couldn’t help but feel a thrill at the sound and at the effect it had on his normally harsh profile. Her hand still in his, he looked as if he would speak, but then another voice interrupted.

“Ms. Granger?” Theo Nott said suddenly, “May I have the final dance of the evening? Unless…” he gave a curt, polite nod towards Lucius. “Mr. Malfoy has the pleasure?”

If Hermione didn’t know better, she’d say Lucius’ grip tightened ever so slightly on her hand before he held it towards Theo to take. “Of course not, Theodore. Ms. Granger. A pleasure as always.”

He bowed slightly and stepped away before Hermione could say a word. Feeling oddly bereft, she nevertheless took Theo’s hand and joined him on the ‘dance floor’. Even as she danced with Theo, she felt Lucius’ eyes on her. Much as she wished to turn and look at him again, she resisted.


	5. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ministry’s midsummer night festival commences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed imagining a midsummer festival for our characters. Time for them to loosen their ties, let their hair down and have some fun. This chapter is a bit long as well, but I hope you’ll find it worth the read.

<https://ladyfrija.tumblr.com/post/187285661160/chapter-5-midsummer>

“I still don’t understand love, so, I cannot get any closer.  
But why does my foolish heart keep pounding?  
From day to night, you’re all I think about.  
Being so pitiful and silly. What should I do?  
The moonlight is so beautiful, I just can’t get away.  
Let me lie down by your side for a moment.  
A moment. Just a moment.  
**Fox Rain, Lee Sun Hee**

Hermione woke the next morning contentedly tired from the night’s festivities. She stretched with a sleepy smile and then looked about in a bit of surprise. She had taken her jewelry and shoes off but apparently had laid across her bed after that and fallen asleep. She was slung haphazardly across the bed, her feet dangling over the edge over her discarded heels and one strap of her wrinkled pink dress slipped off her shoulder.

She couldn’t be sure what woke her up until she sat up and heard it again. _Tap, tap, tap_. Looking towards the window, she saw her favorite owl pecking at the window and flapping irritably. She looked at the clock realizing with a start how late she had slept. It was nearly 10 o’clock! She wondered how long the owl had been waiting and tapping and opened the window, giving it an extra helping of treats to make up for her trouble.

It was certainly the same little owl, but she was intrigued to see a small scroll of parchment. She smiled as she unrolled it, a single stem of a flower, a ranunculus if she was correct. She remembered from the book, for she had come to studying it like any of her textbooks, that it symbolized radiant charm. Her cheeks flushed as she read the masculine script, 

_“It was lovely to see you again last night.”_

Seeing her last night narrowed the pool significantly. The more she thought about it, the less crazy Theo Nott as a possibility seemed even if it did seem out of the blue and odd. But strangely, it was another face that drifted into her mind’s eye as she picked up the parchment to pen a response…

_“I was pleased to see you as well. Perhaps we will see each other again. At the midsummer night’s festival?”_

A smile firmly on her face, Hermione began freshening up, changing her clothes and gathering a few things to go shower in the prefect’s bath. She had packed everything but the essentials in her trunk, knowing that the last week of term she wouldn’t need much cluttering the room and it would be less to do before graduation and the leaving ceremony. She found what she needed easily, and after she had washed, dried and dressed, she was surprised to see a return owl already at the window, with a short but exhilarating message;

_“Count on it.”_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, I’m _so_ glad to be getting out for something other than quidditch!” Hannah Abbot said several days later, with a sigh of relief, as she walked with Hermione just a few steps ahead of Ginny, Harry and Ron.

Hermione smiled looking around the large space that usually housed the tents of quidditch goers for the world cup but had been temporarily coopted as festival grounds. The ministry had been advertising the Midsummer Night’s festival for months, and it seemed to a successful end. There must have been hundreds of people there that night all milling about in celebratory leisure. 

“Yes!” Hermione agreed, taking a deep contented breath of the scent of firewood, smoke, and powder from firecrackers mingling with the more enticing smells of roasted nuts, popped corn, and baked goods. “This is just fabulous!”

“Oi.” Ron said from beside Harry. “Wanna get some pretzels?”

“Ron!” Ginny exclaimed, “How can you possibly still be hungry? We’ve been eating since we got here. And there’s picnic baskets waiting when we watch the play!”

“Can I help it if I want to sample everything?!” Ron said with faux indignation,

Hermione smirked at Harry over her shoulder as the siblings began bickering and then turned back to take in the sights. Shouts, laughter and the squeals of delighted children stretched across the venue. Walking vendors strove to be heard as they milled about offering their wares, butterbeers, mead and ale, boiled peanuts, and solstice cakes. An old but friendly wizard had a crowd of delighted children around him as he charmed enchanted animal balloons and another bestowed gifts of candy floss. 

Hermione scanned the crowds as they passed the long rows of vendors at their stalls and tents. Magical trinkets and curiosities of every imagination, enchanted sun catchers, moon bowls, foodstuffs and stalls from nearly every shop in Diagon Alley. The smell of gingerbread teased her nose and she couldn’t help a delighted giggle at the surroundings. Lively music came from every corner, delighting scores of dancers, people twirling around the large may pole in the center of the field and more than one reveler hopping over bonfires… with varying degrees of success. 

It was a refreshing and joyful atmosphere, but Hermione found this entire time of year to be so as well. Not only was another successful school year drawing to a close, signaling the beginning of a new page in her life, but there was something inherently magical and harmonious about the midsummer festivities. The longest day and shortest night, all of nature bursting with life and fulfillment. The world full of color and promise. It was certainly a time of happiness and celebration, and Hermione was all too pleased to be part of it. She liked to think that after all the stress and tragedy in her life, she had finally learned to slow down and, either literally or figuratively, smell the roses.

“Oh!” Hannah said suddenly as they rounded the corner into the next row of vendors. “Look! I had wondered where everyone was getting the flower crowns! Let’s make some!”

The men grumbling, insisting they’d go but were emphatically _not_ going to make or wear one, tradition be damned, Hannah took Ginny and Hermione by the hand and dragged them over to the tent where a young, dark haired witch in a flowing, bohemian style skirt and white off the shoulder blouse was managing baskets of greenery and dozens of kinds of flower blooms. Along with the other girls, Hermione chose long strands of fragrant rosemary, and then went about selecting the blooms she would weave through it. 

“Oh, I _love_ how rosemary smells, Hermione!” Ginny mentioned. “Hey, wasn’t that in that bouquet you got last month?”

“Is that why you picked it?” Hannah asked, threading stems of daisies together to make her own circlet.

“Oh!” Hermione looked down at the length of herbs in her hand. Truthfully, she had just gravitated towards it… But she supposed she would be lying if she claimed it hadn’t been occupying most of her thoughts. When had she become such a silly sap? “Well, I just… really like the smell. What’s that you’ve got there Ginny?”

“Mistletoe.” Ginny smiled. “I just think it’s so pretty.”

“Oh, an excellent choice mademoiselle.” Said the witch in a thick French accent, and the women turned towards her. “And I gathered this mistletoe from an Oak tree, that I can assure you! Particularly potent this time of year and with the added magic of that noblest of trees! Select your flowers for your crown with care. Seven types of flowers and place them under your pillow tonight… and you will dream of your future husband, they say.”

Hermione smiled politely but it sounded a bit too much like divination to her. She finished winding the flowers through the greens as they walked on, continuing along the rows of vendors, and she placed it firmly among her wild curls that she hadn’t bothered to tame, the earthy scent of the herbs and flowers tickling her nose. 

“Ohh! Look, there’s no tournament going on at the archery field, let’s go shoot!” Ginny exclaimed excitedly.

Ginny and Ron launched into a lively debate on whether they should go to the bows, or find more food, but Hermione didn’t hear. Her heart skipped a beat as they reached the end of the row and Hermione thought she saw a familiar face. Brow furrowed she leaned over, to peer around Harry, who didn’t immediately notice her preoccupation. 

Yes! It was him. Lucius was across the way, speaking to the elderly witch at the potions and apothecary stall. If not for his dead giveaway of pale hair, she might have missed him entirely. He wasn’t wearing any outer robes, or even the sophisticated, fitted suit she usually saw him wear. He was dressed in a plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and trousers, not even a tie or cravat. 

“Hermione will come, won’t she!?” she heard Ginny cut in.

Hermione looked over at her friend. “Um… actually I’m… you guys go ahead.” She answered and started off towards the tent.

“Where are you going?” Hannah called after her.

“I’m sorry. I just remembered something I have to do. I’ll catch up with you guys later! For the fireworks!”

Hermione could smell the balmy, earthy scent of frankincense and myrrh resins as she ducked under the tent. The aroma mingled with the scents of herbs and potions ingredients from the mundane to the rare. She found him, still speaking to the witch, and she desperately wanted to go and greet him – but at the same time, what if he had just been being polite this whole time? What if he would find her company an imposition? So instead of going up to him right away, she pretended to study the potions and remedies watching him from under her eyelashes. 

They were only a few yards apart. She saw him turn towards her and fought the urge to meet his eyes and obligate him to say something to her. Instead she nonchalantly perused the herb bins and selected a bunch of dried catnip for Crookshanks. She walked up to pay and realized with a deflated feeling he wasn’t there and had disappeared in the time it had taken her to pick up the catnip. She paid for her purchase and stepped out of the tent, looking out at the crowds. Perhaps he hadn’t seen her after all… or perhaps she had been misjudging his politeness for –

“Hello Hermione.”

Her heart leapt violently at the sound of his voice and she grinned, beaming with the knowledge he had sought her out after all. She got control of her features and turned around with a polite smile to see Lucius standing behind her. 

“Hello.” She greeted him, striving not to appear to eager. “I… I almost didn’t recognize you.”

He looked down briefly at his simple arrangement. “It seemed more appropriate for the occasion. And I did not wish to draw unnecessary attention to myself.”

“Well, unfortunately you are very recognizable Mr. Malfoy.” She said, folding her hands. “Though even in a more casual setting, you are as handsome as always--”

Hermione fought the immediate urge to gasp and bury her face in her hands and wished intensely that the ground would swallow her up to save her from her mortification. Had she really just said he was handsome? Out loud? _To his actual face?!_

But he didn’t add to her discomfort, and if he noticed her word choice, he took it in stride. “And you.” He said with a smile. “I must say Hermione… each time I see you, you look… stunning.”

Hermione blushed and looked down at her simple white sundress and tan sandals and pulled absent mindedly at one of the thin straps over her shoulder. “Thank you… I think you’re being kind.”

He was about to reply but was stopped when an excited pair of children on unicorn hobby horses rushed past and one brushed the back of her knees forcefully in their effort to maneuver the crowds. She pitched unceremoniously forward, caught up once again by the man in front of her and she was pressed firmly against the hard wall of his chest.

She looked up, thoroughly embarrassed but he smirked. “We should be thankful it wasn’t the real unicorn.”

She raised an eyebrow. “There’s a _real_ unicorn?”

“Indeed. I believe my new daughter in law is seeing to it. Giving rides to the children.”

“Luna is here?!” Hermione asked in surprise. “I thought they were leaving straight away!”

“No doubt a white lie to save face for Draco.” He informed her. “He’s been roped into game master.”

Hermione burst into peals of laughter at the image of Draco attempting to marshal a dozen screaming children. “_This_, I must make a point to see.”

They seemed to realize at the same time that Lucius was still holding firmly to her arms, Hermione pressed comfortably against him and that neither of them had thought to rectify their position. She smiled awkwardly and pulled back and he released her.

Hermione cleared her throat and brushed her hair behind her ear from nerves. “That’s the second time you’ve had to save me from an embarrassing fall, Mr. Malfoy.” 

“My pleasure… And its Lucius. Remember?”

They stood in silence for a moment before Lucius looked back at the tent. “Are you finished here?”

“Oh yes.” Hermione nodded, “I just… wanted to get some catnip for my kneazle. Maybe he’ll forgive me for all the moving about and for neglecting him so much.”

“I don’t suppose you would care to walk with me a while?”

He was perfectly nonchalant and collected but there was a hopeful glint in his eye that made Hermione’s heart pound. “Yes!” she said, a bit too excitably for her own taste.

“You will not mind being seen with me?” he asked, extending his arm.

She raised her chin defiantly and took his arm. “Quite the contrary. I’m proud to be seen with anyone who has made the strides you have.”

“Well.” He said as they began to walk down the lane. “I can’t really take the credit… I was inspired long ago by a strong and compassionate witch. Were it not for her, I think I would still be the same angry bitter man I was when she came upon me.”

Her stomach fluttered at the heated look in his eye when she looked up. Could he really think so much of her? She turned the statement over in her mind. Lucius Malfoy had once been a formidable enemy. The idea that she was responsible for his change of heart and purpose, the thought that _she_ of all people had elicited such a change in him was difficult to wrap her mind around.

“You are… moving, you mentioned.” He continued. “Not too far?”

“Not at all.” She said, enjoying the warmth and closeness of him as he escorted her. “Harry has a room for me at Grimauld place, I’ll be staying there trying very hard to stay out of he and Ginny’s way. They’ll be getting married in a few months, you know, Ginny will have graduated as well, and then they’ll live there together. I’ve been offered a position in the ministry, the Magical Creatures department so I’ll be looking for a place of my own, so hopefully I won’t be in their way too long. They’ll be newlyweds after all and--” Hermione closed her eyes and took a breath. “I am rambling again.”

She heard a low chuckle from the man beside her but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “Am I making you anxious, Hermione?”

“Yes!” she grimaced. “I mean, no, of course not, only…” she sighed. “I am glad I ran into you. I was hoping that we would have the chance to talk.”

“Of anything specific?” he asked, eyebrow raised in piqued interest.

“No, not really.” She confessed. “But I do enjoy our conversations, and the last time I saw you, everything was so busy at the wedding, there was not much opportunity beyond a very brief chat.”

“I enjoy them as well. But… I fear I am taking you away from your friends. I saw you earlier with your group, and I am sure your Mr. Weasley would not-”

“Oh, he’s not _my_ Mr. Weasley.” She assured him quickly. “I mean… we all came together but, we’re not actually… together.”

“Oh, no?” Lucius responded, though he sounded like he had been verifying this information and not merely learning it. “And… may I ask… the young Mr. Nott?

“Well… I confess I have spent more time with him than I have in the past but… I should say that no um… actual requests have been made…”

“I see. Well who knows… They say if you place a few flowers under your pillow on midsummer night you will dream of your future husband. Perhaps you can sort through your entourage of seekers.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes, that’s what the witch said. Sounds a little too fantastical to be believed. Though the seasonal potency of plants can’t be denied in their usefulness in potion making, I doubt it can create dreams of the future.”

He chuckled. “Probably not…” He then looked after her reflectively. “Do you know much of the magical lore of plants and herbs, Hermione?”

Hermione’s heart skipped several beats and her cheeks flushed at the tone of his voice; curious but guarded as if he didn’t want to let her know quite what he was thinking... Had she been completely wrong to suspect Theo? Could it have been Lucius all this time?

“I… I do.” She said, glancing up at him through her eyelashes watching him carefully. “You could call it a… recent interest. Do you?”

The stubborn man gave nothing away in his facial features. “Many older witches and wizards do. Such things were more popular before your time.” 

The idea that Lucius Malfoy had been the one sending her the anonymous missives had been a fleeting wishful thought… but now she began to cling to it with a fervor. Was he seeing if the proverbial coast was clear? Was he testing the waters before making some kind of declaration? Hermione’s heart pounded even faster at the thought. What would she say in response if he were?

They walked on together, rather aimlessly, chatting about events, the festival, her ministry plans, and what he planned to do when Luna and Draco were through with their year of travelling. Turned out he planned to live in London, in his town house, near the ministry. She asked if he planned to return to the ministry in any capacity, to which he scoffed and replied, ‘not without a damn good reason’. She supposed it was difficult, returning to society even after a change of heart and outlook, and she understood his desire to remain under the radar. Most people who noticed him as they went on their way ignored him, but she was not oblivious to those who tossed scathing glares, fearfully crossed to the other side, or sneered in disgust. Lucius appeared unaffected, but she could feel the tension in him. One sour looking older wizard started across the path towards them, looking as if he was prepared to give Lucius a piece of his mind, but Hermione tightened her grip on Lucius’ arm and fixed the man with a glare of her own, and he seemed to think better of his planned disruption.

“Why did you want to subject yourself to this?” she asked, genuinely curious after the man had given them a darting glance and then retreated. 

“Well.” He said cautiously. “I do not usually… but… something – or someone – in particular made it especially worth the discomfort.”

Hermione was about to reply, when a young boy dressed in Shakespearean costume, likely set to play the part of Puck, was heard running through the tents. “Come one, come all!” he cried. “Our fond pageant grows near! Follow me, that merry wanderer of the night! Come one, come all –“

Hermione hastily checked the time as the costumed wizard continued away and gasped in surprised. “It’s been two hours! I’ve completely lost track of time!”

“I will accept the blame for your lengthy departure from your friends.” Lucius grimaced wryly. “You are… an engaging young woman. And very easy to talk to.”

“So are you...” She said in reply, “There are much worse ways I could have spent the time.”

“Then.” He stopped walking and took her hand in his. “I will bid you goodnight and thank you for your company. Enjoy the evening’s performance, Hermione.”

Hermione shivered breathlessly as he brought her hand to his lips and laid a warm and gentle kiss on the back of her hand and upon releasing her, turned and began walking away. 

“Lucius?” she called impulsively.

He turned back to her; eyebrow raised curiously.

“I… don’t… _have_ to rejoin my friends…” she said nervously. “I mean… we didn’t exactly make plans to see the play together…”

Lucius struggled to conceal a smile. “and I do not _have_ to return home…”

Hermione gestured over her shoulder. “Would you like to watch the performance together?”

He came back to her, and her heart was thundering wildly. He extended his arm again and she took it, both for courtesy and in hopes it would steady her. The dizziness she had seemed prone to with his proximity only seemed to worsen as he led her down the lane towards the darker end of the field, where blankets and picnic baskets already covered the grass around a raised stage. Candles floated overhead, casting a warm glow and giving enough light to illuminate the paths. They settled together comfortably, under a tree a bit apart from the others, and there was really no difference now from before, but Hermione found her stomach twisted in terrible knots. 

What is _wrong_ with you?! She thought scathingly.

She was happy when the play began and saved her from having to come up with something to say and gave her time to collect herself. There was quite a bit contained within the picnic baskets to choose from – butterbeers, elderflower champagne, of which Lucius poured into a glass and extended to her, and she sipped happily. There were generous portions of cured salmon, new potato salad with dill and capers, cold ham, bread, aromatic herbed cheeses, solstice cakes, and a beautiful array of berries.

The setting _could_ be quite romantic.

Hermione bit her lip and stole a glance at him. He was relaxed, content and unbothered by the crowd in the dark, and the ambiance had a pleasant effect on his face. She was unsure if it was the champagne or his nearness and her nerves, but her cheeks were inflamed, and she pointlessly brought a hand to her face to cool it. She attempted to focus on the play, and they watched together, drank, and laughed. By time the lights over the stage dimmed and intermission was called, Hermione felt herself becoming quite tipsy. 

“I’ve always loved a Midsummer Night’s Dream.” Hermione sighed as the enchanted candles raised their light and people began talking and milling about. “It’s so much fun to watch. Especially after finding out I was a witch, muggle ideas of what a magical world would be like have fascinated me.”

“Oh, Shakespeare was no muggle.” Lucius said emphatically. 

Hermione became very serious and looked over at Lucius. “You don’t mean he was a wizard!”

“Squib.” He declared. “Wizards used him as a spy.”

Hermione’s curiosity unavoidably piqued, she was about to launch into a lengthy discourse of questions, wanting to demand why this fascinating piece of history wasn’t taught at Hogwarts. But then she noticed the muted sparkle in his eye behind his very serious expression. “You’re teasing me.” She accused him dryly.

Lucius laughed. “I am.”

Giggling, Hermione laid back and stretched her arms over her head. “I’m glad you stayed.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could think better of it. But speaking freely felt refreshing. She enjoyed his company and why shouldn’t she make him aware of it? He hadn’t been shy about telling her he enjoyed hers. Why should she hide it? She looked over at him to find him staring at her. 

“As am I.” he responded,

A sudden wave of bravery washed over her. It was probably the champagne, but she’d take it… She sat up and leaned forward, close enough that her knee was pressed gently against his hip as she sat cross legged and she peered, hazy eyed into his shadowed face. “Why? What is one little muggleborn witch to you?”

He looked back at her just as intently. “I don’t have to pretend with you.” He said simply, meeting her directness head on. “You know exactly who I am, and what I have done, and you chose to look past it. To show me grace, mercy and forgiveness. And I do not know what you could have seen in me that caused you to… but I am glad you saw it.”

“Maybe it was just a matter of wanting to see who you could be if you were given the chance.” She replied. 

He looked away briefly. “Even I didn’t know who that man was going to be.”

Impulsively Hermione reached out and laid her hand against his face to make him look at her again. “That just means we _both_ got to be surprised.”

His face remained serious, but a smile lit his eyes as he studied her. She found her fingertips ghosting over his jawbone and upwards to lightly thread through his hair. 

_You should stop this. Don’t touch him. Move away_. She thought. 

_Why_?

Could she be so bold?

She shifted closer, nearly sick with anxiousness, and noticed immediately his breathing quicken and could see a battle of will and questions going on in his own eyes. They moved inward, but just before one, or both of them, made the final decision, the lights changed, and the performers returned to the stage, breaking the moment. Hermione cleared her throat as Lucius moved back and she tried to look interested in the play. Her body tingled, all too aware of exactly where he was, how close he was, and exactly how she would have to move to return to their previous position.

She felt his hand shift and cover hers, and only then did she realize she was trembling. Good god, why was she trembling? He squeezed her hand and leaned closer to whisper quietly to her, his chest brushed against her shoulder as he moved. “Are you alright?” he asked.

_No!_ she screamed inwardly. _I am not alright!_

“Mhm.” She answered, smiling tightly. “Perfectly.”

He remained disorientingly close however, so much so that she hardly noticed the play concluding an hour later. They stayed relatively motionless as the cast departed and the rest of the laughing, chattering audience began to wander away. The blankets and baskets littering the field vanished magically and the candles extinguished, and Hermione sighed, leaning her head back as she felt Lucius’ hand at the back of her neck, his hand threading gently through her hair, teasing her senses. 

“Dance with me.” She whispered suddenly.

He smiled and she turned towards him, his lips just inches from hers. “There’s no music.” He told her.

“There is… listen.” She insisted, standing up.

He joined her standing, laughter in his eyes, and she held her hands out to him and to her delight he took them. It was silly, it was foolish, it was most _definitely_ the champagne, but she didn’t care, and she drew him into a slow dance to nearly nothing. The barest echo of music from the other end of the field reached them and she used it, or rather, she let him use it, and she let him lead her in the steps of a waltz to _Scarborough Fair_ She swallowed hard, a soft smile on her lips as she breathed in the scent of him, the drifting smell of bonfires and smoke, as the sound of the crickets and the faraway muted laughter and voices was carried by the summer evening breeze. 

His eyes danced as he looked down at her, lighted by moonlight and the first colorful explosions of fireworks signaling the end of the evening. But the smile faded and one of his hands touched her cheek almost cautiously, as if afraid he would be burned, or she would draw back. She didn’t. Ever so slightly, she pressed her cheek against his palm, her eyes fluttering closed as his thumb stroked her flesh and she couldn’t help swaying against him and he gripped her tightly. 

“Too much spinning, I think.” He suggested gruffly.

“Yes… too much spinning.” She repeated quietly. 

She leaned into him, her hands running upward over his shoulders. She knew what she wanted. Knew exactly what she desired to do. And the look in his eyes and the quickening of his breathing told her he would let her… But was it wise?

Throwing caution away to the wind, she tilted her head up and with more confidence than she felt, gently and questioningly pressed her lips against his. Her body tingled, her lips burned at the contact, craving more. He studied her as she retreated the barest of distances and then he slid his hand behind her head and pulled her back to kiss her in return. She gasped in surprise quickly overwhelmed as he deepened the kiss passionately and hungrily. Breathless they parted.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for longer than you know.” He informed her, resting his forehead against hers.

Hermione leaned into him. “Why did you wait?”

“I had to be sure.”

“Of what?” She asked apprehensively. 

“Of so much.” He answered just before claiming her lips again. 

Her body was on fire as it had never been before. Contrary to what many likely thought, she was no green, naïve simpleton in these matters. But at the flames that licked at her skin, and the twisting, liquid ache that threatened to swallow her whole as he touched and kissed her, she regretted intensely the fumbling tryst with Krum, and the desperate and ill-advised nights with Ron in the tent when Harry was outside on his watch. That was nothing to the passion she felt in this moment. 

She heard, and felt, him groan, deep in his chest and he broke their kiss. She looked up as he forced himself away from her. At first, she thought she had done something wrong. But the passionate stormy look in his eyes spoke of something else. His body was shaking as badly as hers and she quivered as his thumb grazed her lower lip. “Hermione, we shouldn’t.”

Anger lanced through her. “Don’t patronize me.”

“No, no I wouldn’t.” he had seized her forearms as she made to turn away in irritation. He dragged her back, kissing her again, and the anger fled away, replaced immediately by desire. Desire he shared if the heated starving way he drank her in, and how his hands ran gently and searchingly over her body, holding her close, was any evidence. 

“Then why--” she murmured against his lips.

Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against hers, his hands tightened on her hips. “Because we _both_ deserve more than this. We deserve to be sure we are not simply overcome by one moment…”

“Would being overcome, be so terrible?”

“No… merlin no… But if I am to have you, and by the gods, I want nothing more than to lay you down here, and claim you for my own… I want you properly.”

“Properly?” she asked.

He nodded. “Properly.”

Swallowing hard, she nodded in return and stepped away from him, but he held fast to her hand as he turned, and they walked in silence across the field.

She was glad that circumstances had brought them into one another’s orbits. After all, if Draco and Luna had not become involved, there was very little chance she would have ever conversed with Lucius again beyond that single meeting a year before… Just one small matter of happenstance leading to another and now here they were… It seemed surreal, to be so content, happy and comfortable in the arms of someone that would once have frightened and abused her. But she had come to know a _new_ man. One who was considerate, good humored, intelligent and gentle. Was this truly the man hiding beneath the scowls and rage? Was it possible to be so freed by one simple act of kindness?

Her heart thundered, her body ached, and an idea came to her. A possibility that this was not mere interest or fleeting infatuation. 

Could this be or was she crazy? Could she have genuine feelings for Lucius Malfoy? She was certain of one thing… she desperately wanted to explore it.


	6. Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius and Hermione take a leap of faith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’ve enjoyed Lucius and Hermione getting to know each other better. After this there is one more chapter before the epilogue.

<https://ladyfrija.tumblr.com/post/187285667880/chapter-6-midsummer>

“Are you gonna kiss me or not?  
Are we gonna do this or what?  
I think you know I like you a lot  
But you're 'bout to miss your shot  
Are you gonna kiss me or not?  
**”Are You Gonna Kiss Me or Not?” Thompson Square**

**About 3 weeks later, July 5 1999**

Hermione clutched her brief case as she hurried from the lobby down the hallway towards the lift. Her lunch break was over and really, she had plenty of time to get back to her desk in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And honestly, no one there was so particular about timing that they would be terribly vexed if she were late. But she had never liked being late to begin with, and it was her very first day on the job, and she wanted to make a good impression. 

It had gone well so far. She had been well received in the department, but she found herself with a strong desire to outrun her reputation. She wanted her ideas accepted, her proposals taken seriously – not because she was a war heroine, not because she was Hermione Granger, or Harry Potter’s friend. But because they were worth considering on their own merit. While it was apparent there were a few “star struck” individuals, for the most part, it seemed Hermione would be able to enjoy a relatively normal work environment.

In fact, Hermione’s first assignment was to join the task force who was combing through all regulatory laws and recommending repeals. She was anxious to do just that, with a particular interest and focus on house elf laws…

She would be lying to herself if she claimed that a desire to start her job well was the only reason that she had for throwing herself so fully into a task. She could not claim there was no other driving force causing her to need a distraction only work could provide. 

She had not heard from Lucius in two weeks, and she reflected on this with a significant degree of confusion: 

_To her mind, nothing had been amiss. The evening they’d spent together at the midsummer night festival had ended nicely. She hadn’t wanted it to end at all, but nothing could go on forever. So, they had walked hand in hand and silent, back towards the lights and chaos of the gathering. Lucius had not gone with her the rest of the way, leaving her instead to rejoin her friends. He had smiled, kissed her hand and she watched him leave._

_Finding her friends had been much less pleasant, however. They were all together, and curious but not angry that she had wandered off. She found them laughing raucously, drinking mead and butterbeers at a picnic table, joking and talking as they watched the fireworks and greeted her cheerfully. _

_Ron, however, was incensed. _

_“Where’ve you been?!” Ron had asked accusingly as he glowered at her._

_“Around.” She answered noncommittally. _

_She was just about to ask Harry, Ginny and the others how they were enjoying the evening, but Ron wasn’t about to let the subject lie. He hopped off the table, throwing his butterbeer bottle with a crack in the dirt, stalking towards her as she folded her arms in irritation._

_“Don’t bother, it’s gotten around! People have seen you. I know where you’ve been.” He grumbled._

_“Oh?” Hermione had challenged him, eyebrow raised. “And do I have to run my whereabouts and plans by you for approval?”_

_“Lucius Malfoy? Lucius Malfoy?!! What the hell, Hermione?! Of all people--”_

_“Ron.” Harry interrupted warningly. “We said we weren’t going to bug her about it, and she’d tell us if she wanted to.”_

_“And I might have if you hadn’t opened your mouth in typical Ronald Weasley fashion to be rude and demanding!” Hermione said angrily. _

_“So, it’s true then?” Ron sneered in disgust. “You’ve been with Malfoy all night.”_

_“Yes.” Hermione answered, her chin raised defiantly. “We walked together, had a long, pleasant conversation and then watched the performance together. Would you like to burn me at the stake now or later?”_

_“Come on Ron, come off it.” Ginny said with a tone of boredom. “You’ve been fuming about this for hours now. Come sit down and just have another butterbeer.”_

_Ron ignored his sister however and opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione cut him off._

_“I’ve been talking to him for months!” She said in exasperation. “It’s not like we haven’t seen each other before now, especially with Luna getting involved with Draco. Honestly Ronald! Why is this so distressing and shocking to you!?”_

_“Because it’s not like you were having a friendly chat over coffee in the ministry lobby!” Ron spat. “Sounded like things were awful cozy with the two of you.”_

_“Oh, for god’s sake-”_

_“Did you kiss him?!”_

_“Did I – what – that’s none of your business!”_

_“Did you!?” he shouted,_

_“Yes!” she hissed. “and I’ll thank you to stop your shouting! You’re making a fool of yourself!”_

_And onward from there it went. Harry and Neville had finally convinced him to cease his foaming at the mouth and shouting and Hermione left with Ginny and Hannah for Hannah and Neville’s apartment over the Leaky Cauldron. It had quite ruined her mood. But a little time decompressing with the girls and she was feeling much better. But they had their own questions to ask._

_“So. Are you and Malfoy… a thing, or something?” Hannah asked._

Three weeks later and she still wasn’t sure _what_ they were. Oh, not that he had been silent. Another arrangement of flowers had arrived, of all pink wisteria. Blossoming feelings of love, Luna had said. But no longer hidden among vague hopes - obviously declared. He was sure now. Of his own feelings at least. But then, she was assuming, wasn’t she? She still wasn’t sure the sender was Lucius. He hadn’t said as much. He had said plenty – just not that. But she tried not to let her disappointment get to her. 

The day of her graduation from Hogwarts and leaving ceremony arrived and she was rightfully happy and proud of her accomplishments. She held her head high, even if a stray tear for a closed chapter and lost time and comrades and enjoyed a reception in Hogsmeade. Theo Nott had attended, and though she enjoyed conversing with him, she politely declined an invitation for coffee. She couldn’t in good conscience give him the wrong idea about her interest and intentions with the way she was feeling about Lucius, even if he _hadn’t_ contacted her.

Truth be told, she hadn’t contacted him either. Partly from a full schedule, with leaving Hogwarts, getting more firmly settled with Harry, helping Ginny move in to Grimmauld place and preparing for she and Harry’s wedding as well as preparing for her first day of her future, working at the ministry. And partly from a fear that shamed her. As fond as she was of him, and as much as she wished to explore the mutual attraction between them, she had no idea what to say to him now…

Her thoughts were violently interrupted when she rounded the corner a bit too quickly and collided with a painfully hard surface that was obviously another person. 

“I’m sorry--” she said in a rush

“My apologies--” he said at the same time.

Her head snapped up at the familiar voice and she was surprised to come face to face with the subject of her thoughts. She _should_ be angry. Irritated at the very least that he hadn’t reached out to even say something as simple as hello. But… she reminded herself. She could have reached out too… As much as her thoughts had been reeling, his must have been as well. 

“Hermione!” he said, eyes wide in surprise. 

“Lucius.” She nodded anxiously. 

They stared at each other in unsure silence for a moment before he shook himself out of it and spoke. “Uh – how has your first day transpired?”

Hermione nodded. “Very well, thank you. I’m… just on my way back from my lunch break. I’m surprised to see you here…”

“Magical Law Enforcement, once a week...” He told her quietly. “A… condition of my freedom. _One_ of the conditions I should say.”

Hermione frowned. “Even after all this time?”

He nodded. “But… I fear I’m keeping you. I would hate to be the reason you were late back on your first day. Good day Ms. Granger.”

Hermione felt quite deflated and a little angry at what felt like a brush off. “Good day, Mr. Malfoy.” She said coldly, walking past him and heading towards the lift.

“Hermione.” he said quietly.

Taking a deep breath to swallow the hurt she turned. “Yes?”

“I… would you…” he stopped and gestured helplessly as if changing his mind on what he had planned to say. “Good luck. I’m sure you’ll be brilliant.”

She sighed in disappointment. “Thank you, Lucius. Goodbye.”

She was very aware of curious and or hostile stares from people passing by. Some tried to look nonchalant, others didn’t make any effort to conceal their disgust or prying observation. Gossip had spread like wildfire after midsummer’s night. But she refused to be intimidated by know nothing busybodies. As they turned and went their separate ways, Hermione stopped, heart pounding, and she turned again. “Lucius?”

He turned back immediately and took several steps towards her. “Yes?”

“I…” she stammered. “I was hoping… I really did enjoy the time we spent together.”

He smiled forcefully. “As did I, Hermione… well… goodbye.”

She nodded. “Goodbye.”

This time, she hadn’t quite turned around before he called her back. “Hermione, wait.”  
She looked up at him expectantly, her breath caught in her throat.

Lucius looked as if he were going to say something… but he linked his hands behind his back and took a deep breath as he took a few steps closer. “Hermione… I… tried to write.”

Hermione huffed and looked down at the floor. “I started a letter and scrapped it, so many times.”

She looked up, her cheeks warm and heart pounding. What would his letter have said? But when their eyes met, she suspected it would _not_ have been a rejection, or polite regret for a foolish moment. 

Hermione smiled. He seemed as nervous as she felt, and it was a spectacularly intriguing notion that the usually stoic and put together Mr. Malfoy was anxious. “Lucius?”

He took another step closer and reached out to take her hand. “Would you… would you care to join me... somewhere? Again?”

“Why Lucius Malfoy.” She grinned, not caring a whit that the few people milling about them were staring and whispering. “Are you trying to ask me on a date?”

He smirked, his eyes dancing with amusement. “I suppose I am.”

Hermione inclined her head. “Then I accept.” 

“Wonderful.” He murmured, then looked up as if surprised. “Wait, you do?”

Hermione laughed. “Yes.”

A stunned sort of smile curved his lips. “Well… I look forward to it.” She failed to suppress a shiver as he kissed her hand before turning to leave again.

“Lucius, wait!” she said. 

He turned back and raised an eyebrow with an expectant look. 

“Where?” she laughed. “When?” 

He smiled gently. “You’ll hear from me.”


	7. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione receives an invitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of the story. Thank you so much for reading. There will be an epilogue for those of you who like things nice and tidy, a wedding and a lemon tucked away in the epilogue as well. 😊

<https://ladyfrija.tumblr.com/post/187285678215/chapter-7-midsummer>

“Love imposes impossible tasks  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme  
Though not more than any heart asks  
And I must know he's a true love of mine.  
Dear, when thou has finished thy task  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme  
Come to me, my hand for to ask  
For thou then art a true love of mine.”  
**Scarborough Fair, Celtic Woman**

Waiting was hell.

She had not even been waiting long. It was only a few days. But as was her habit when faced with a conundrum she had spent a considerable amount of time mulling it over. She knew she wasn’t crazy. She was not imagining these stirrings of affection between her and Lucius. And this was _not_ some kind of rebound thing. She knew herself. She knew her mind. She was unashamed of enjoying his company and getting to know him. And she wanted to continue getting to know him. It was just that simple. It didn’t have to be more complicated than that.

So, she stood that evening at the front window of Grimauld Place’s sitting room, feeling impatient and foolish. She had told herself multiple times she wouldn’t do this… usually right before she finished her work and then went to the window anyway…

“Hey Hermione!”

Hermione turned around and smiled. “Ginny, hi. I’m sorry I didn’t even hear you come through the floo.”

Ginny gestured to a stack of boxes that had magically appeared behind her and settled on the floor. “Just finished packing up the rest of my stuff.”

“That’s good.” She said a little distractedly. “I’m going to be out of your way as soon as I possibly can, I promise.”

“Oh, come on.” Ginny scolded turning around, waving her wand and a few of the smaller boxes floated off to their destinations. “You’re not a bother!”

“You’re getting married in a month, you guys don’t need a house guest under foot from the get-go.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Oh gosh I _know_, however will we manage with someone who goes to work early, comes home late and eats dinner over the work she brought home, or the studies she’s pouring over just for the hell of it!”

Hermione laughed and then turned back towards the window. “Am I that insufferable?”

“No, not insufferable.” She smiled and then paused her sorting to look at Hermione quizzically. “Looks like you’re on an owl watch. What are you waiting for? Stuff from work?

“No um…” Hermione ran a hand through her hair. “I was… hoping to hear from someone else…”

“Lucius?” Ginny suggested.

Hermione gaped at her.

“Don’t look so surprised.” Ginny laughed. “My brother might have been a complete arse about it but one thing he’s right about, everyone was talking about it.”

Hermione crossed her arms tightly and huffed deeply. “Honestly, its ridiculous. We were _just_ talking! We watched the play together, _not_ touching, and that was it!”

Ginny raised an eyebrow.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Alright, that was _almost_ it, but seriously, _one_ kiss, what is everyone’s deal!?”

Ginny hopped up on the end table and studied Hermione. “Well I mean… you have Lucius Malfoy, second in command of Voldemort’s army, dark wizard of dark wizards and pureblood of purebloods, and _you_, Hermione Granger, muggleborn Princess, heroine of the wizarding world, nightmare of said dark wizards everywhere, reportedly have him wrapped around your finger… People are going to talk.”

Hermione smiled. “He is quite different… isn’t he?”

Ginny jumped down and grabbed Hermione’s hands. “He is. And so are you.”

Hermione looked up in surprise. “Me?”

“You.” She grinned. “You’re happier…You’re more relaxed…You smile more than I think I’ve ever seen you.”

Hermione looked at the floor in thought. “So… you’re ok with this?”

“Hermione.” Ginny said, reaching up and brushing Hermione’s hair away from her face in sisterly affection. “I love you. You’re one of my best friends. We’re practically family. If _you_ say he’s not the same man… then he’s not. I want you to be happy.”

Hermione swallowed down the lump in her throat and threw her arms around Ginny. Ginny squeezed her tight and as they parted both of them had tears to brush away.

“Oh geez.” Ginny huffed. “We better cut this out, we’ll chase Harry right back out the door when he gets back.”

Hermione laughed and made to retort before Ginny smiled at her and pointed to the window. “You’ve got a visitor… I’ll go put on some tea.”

Hermione turned around and looked towards the window as the little tawny owl began tapping at the window. With a bright smile, and only a little prompting from Ginny she crossed over to the window and welcomed the owl. She held her leg out for Hermione to take the small parcel. She untied the small miniature bouquet of roses. As always, at her touch, the small collection of flowers blossomed into full and aromatic blooms. A piece of parchment unfurled from the center and floated up to her and curiously, she caught it. 

_“Hermione. If convenient for you, would you be able to join me, at 8pm on Friday evening? The owl will wait for your reply.”_

Hermione bit the inside of her lip. He didn’t sign it. It sounded like Lucius… And he had promised she would hear from him. If only she –

Ah! Why hadn’t she thought of it before? How could she have been so stupid?! Hermione summoned the letters from her desk and began rifling through the stack. Had she thrown it out? She couldn’t remember. There it was! She pulled out one of Theo’s invitations and quickly compared the handwriting. Hermione blew out a breath. The handwriting wasn’t even close. Besides Ron, there was no one that had even expressed an interest in her… She was safe to assume then, wasn’t she?

Hermione wrote her acceptance and after sending it off with the owl, she opened the small box it had carried. It was a necklace, one she knew with a blush had to have been expensive, but it was beautiful without being gaudy. A black Tahitian pearl in a silver setting and chain. A onetime use portkey, the small slip of parchment in the parcel said. She was to put it on, say her name and be transported to him. Her heart pounded furiously at the thought… 

At dinner, Harry had not been thrilled to find out she was planning on taking an unregistered portkey from an anonymous sender. But Hermione and Ginny exchanged a smile over their teacups, and she assured her friend that he was far from a stranger. Harry looked uncertain but Hermione was not.

Fate stacked against her that Friday evening when by chance the one night in a long time she despised the idea of working late, she was obliged to remain far after quitting time. Her saving grace was Ginny, who rushed home straight away after quidditch practice to grab Hermione’s clothes and booked it to the ministry. There, still smudged with dirt and grass stains, Ginny helped Hermione with her makeup and hair after she had changed in her office closet, and then ran with her out the visitor’s entrance. 

Hermione of course, had no idea where she was going. Which had made the already usually difficult decision of what to wear even more elusive. Casual? Elegant? She settled for somewhere in between, with a formfitting black cocktail dress, heels and wrap. She could always do some quick transfiguring work if she had to… Ginny had helped charm her hair into manageable waves, sweeping it up into a high, elegant ponytail. With a final deep breath, she took the necklace from her clutch, and fastened it around her neck, said her name and was swept away to parts unknown…

She was surprised when she was deposited on a busy sidewalk somewhere in the center of London. It was vaguely familiar, as if she had passed this way on other occasions, but she had never been to the place whose door she was in front of. A tall, multi storied restaurant; _Nightwatch_ was blazoned in elegant scrollwork across the lighted masonry. Perplexed but intrigued she walked forward and through the heavy door. The interior was dark with oak paneling and hurricane lanterns casting a warm, intimate glow. 

Hermione looked about, searching the tables and small booths along the walls, taking in the calm and quiet atmosphere. Uncertainly, she stepped forward, meeting the eye of a young and pretty blonde girl, standing behind the hostess stand. She nodded politely, “Can I help you?” she asked in a high pitched but cheerful voice.

“I um... I’m not sure.” Hermione admitted, smiling awkwardly. “I think I was supposed to be meeting someone here.”

“Their name?”

“I uh…” Hermione was about to admit she didn’t know. But then she smiled. That wasn’t true. “Lucius Malfoy.”

The girl looked up from her charts and lists and smiled warmly. “Oh, are you Ms. Granger?” When Hermione answered in the affirmative, she stepped out from behind her stand, gestured to another waitress busily serving drinks and then for Hermione to follow her. “You’re expected. Right this way please.”

Hermione followed her down the center hall, and Hermione could see other rooms and alcoves on the other side of the room. The waitress led her to a set of stairs in a center column and they went up a four levels, past other rooms and tables with large bay windows until they reached a landing. 

“Wine and starters are on the terrace. Someone will be up in a few minutes to take your dinner selections. Just up the lift and through the doors, miss.”

_Terrace_?

“Thank you.” Hermione said, and she continued along the corridor and into the lift. There was no interior light save for the button she pushed, and the outside walls were glass. She usually didn’t care for such things, it felt too much like flying. But through the support columns and beams she could see a pleasing view of the city coming alive as the sun had begun setting. 

The lift came to a stop and the door opened, and Hermione stepped out into a dark empty room with unoccupied tables. The walls were glass, and one open wall with a stone bar counter formed the interior room, but it was the outer terrace that caught her attention.

Hermione slipped through the glass door, stepping into the warm summer evening. The unobstructed view was spectacular, and the terrace inviting. Brick flower beds along the walls of the room presented a pleasant contrast to the surrounding stone. But there was clearly more at work here. Clusters of pillar candles along the navel high wall and large clusters of roses were laid in various places along the floor. The candlelight grew slightly brighter when she approached, and she smiled as under her feet, roses of every color sprouted and sprawled as she walked. The muted, far off noise of traffic and people was nothing from this distance. She looked around, taking in the lights, the array of buildings both modern and traditional, and serene view of the river.

“To think I even thought for a minute it could have been Theo.” She muttered to herself. “And here I expected a coffee shop or something…”

“Ms. Granger, my dear… you did not think I would be so… unimaginative?”

Hermione smiled, her heart leaping at the familiar sound. Turning, her eyes danced as she saw him, stepping away from where he had been leaning patiently against the wall of the restaurant. “Of course not, Mr. Malfoy. Given your obvious liking for theatrics I fully anticipated being swept away.”

“You’re not disappointed then?” Lucius asked.

“To find it has been you all along?” she breathed as he came closer. “Not at all.”

She held out her hand for him as he came more fully into the candlelight. For a man that had never dressed as a muggle before in his life, with the fitted black suit, and white dress shirt open at the neck, hair tied back, he had done well for himself. Leaning his walking stick against the terrace, he took her other hand as well and raised it to his lips with a half bow, his eyes sweeping down her frame in open appreciation. “You look absolutely stunning.”

“You look wonderful.” She said. “I confess, I’m surprised. Muggle clothing.”

“When in Rome.” He smirked. “I couldn’t figure out the tie.”

Hermione smiled and squeezed his hands and turned outward towards the skyline. “This is just wonderful, Lucius. I’ve never been here. How did you find it?”

“Well, muggles apparently have these… agents of travelling who make their living telling other muggles where to go on vacation.”

“Wait, wait.” Hermione said, gob smacked. “_You_, went to a muggle travel agency, to ask questions about where to take me? How did that go?”

“It was interesting I will tell you.” He said, bracing his hands on the banister as he came to stand next to her. “They speak a different language, these muggles, I tell you.”

She laughed heartily at that. Eyes dancing, she turned towards him. “Lucius, why did you do this?”

The amusement fled his face and he grew very serious indeed. “I… wanted to show you how serious I am, Hermione. That the changes you fostered in me are not superficial… So.” He continued with a deep breath, gesturing out across the skyline. “I put us here. In the middle of muggle London, in the hopes I could show you how you’ve changed my outlook on the world.”

Hermione felt tears sting her eyes. “I never thought they were superficial. You… made me believe in you.”

Any further response was interrupted, when the Tawny owl that had brought his messages landed next to them on the stone banister. Flapping and hooting for attention, Hermione smiled and patted its head.

“Well hello my little friend! I was always so happy to see this bird.”

“I was hoping you would like her.” Lucius said, placing his hand on Hermione’s back tenderly. “She is yours, if you wish it.”

“I’ve never had an owl of my own before. She is such a sweet little thing.” Hermione scratched her neck affectionately and the bird fluffed and preened happily. “But why the secrecy, Lucius? Why did you not make yourself known?”

“For the very simple reason that I had no idea of being well received.” He confessed. “I feared you would still despise me. Or find me… not what you were looking for. That you would prefer someone younger, or… with a less checkered past.”

Hermione reached out, laying her hand on his shoulder. “I started suspecting it was you… and at first I was shocked. I couldn’t believe I had such an effect on you.”

Lucius turned towards her, taking her hands in his again and holding them to his chest. “You did. From the moment you walked into that interrogation room. But I had to be sure it was not just gratitude, desperation or some other nonsense. Or worse just some kind of pathetic loneliness after Narcissa’s death… So, I waited.”

“And now?” she asked breathlessly, staring up into his face.

He took one hand and laid it gently against her cheek. “And now… I haven’t been so sure of anything in a long time. You are worth changing for. I can’t promise I’ll never disappoint. But I can promise I’ll spend my life trying not to.” 

Hermione exhaled in relief and impulsively threaded her arms around his neck.

“But I don’t know your thoughts, Hermione.” He said gruffly, breathing deeply the scent of her hair as he nuzzled against the soft flesh of her neck. “If you were caught in the moment, if it was one ill-advised kiss… Tell me… tell me if I’ve imagined it.” 

“No. You haven’t imagined it.” she answered quietly. “I care for you, Lucius. I’m not ashamed to say that you’ve shown me a completely different side of you, and I’m so happy that you did.”

“So, what say you, Hermione?” he asked, slipping his hand behind her head. “Shall we see where this leads us?”

“Yes, Lucius.” She replied, resting her hand against his chest. “Nothing could make me happier.”

Except for perhaps the thrill that overcame her as his lips covered hers in a passionate kiss…


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snapshot of how things progressed for our couple; and Lucius and Hermione make love for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s a wrap folks! Thanks again. Adult content ahead so mind the rating if you don’t want to read it.

<https://ladyfrija.tumblr.com/post/187285686590/chapter-8-midsummer>

But it turned out, there were quite a few things that could indeed make her happier. 

They had had their share of struggles. They were both stubborn as the day was long, that much was certain. But Lucius had kept his word and he tried, and Hermione found it easier and easier to meet him where he was. They had also had a fair bit of opposition. Ron didn’t give her a moment’s peace on the subject and neither did the gossip columns and shrews like Rita Skeeter. But Lucius had always been above caring what the papers said, and Hermione herself learned not to pay them any heed. It had not affected her career. Her year at the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures had been fruitful, and even if her proposals and amendments had sparked more than one argument with Lucius, he was supportive and even helpful in her ambitions, and encouraged her when she moved to be a lawyer in the law enforcement department.

She coveted his advice and knowledge. Despite his many sins in the arena of politics, she couldn’t deny his expertise and she encouraged him to consider returning to the ministry and use his talents for a more beneficial purpose. He resisted, strongly, but Hermione had faith he would find a place in the world he was attempting to create for them.

Hermione had been uncertain what exactly life with Lucius would look like. But she could not be any happier. She enjoyed sharing experiences with him: Simple walks and excursions and romantic candlelight dinners alike. Every now and then, she would arrive at her office to find a bouquet of flowers waiting on her desk, those same blooms that had started their journey together all those months ago. Sometimes she would surprise him, leaving the ministry for lunch to find him. It was all a pleasant, contented normalcy in her opinion. She went to stuffy social engagements with him, he went to confusing muggle entertainment venues with her. She suspected to this day, the first rock concert she subjected him to, was a terrifying experience and she teased him for his hastily conjured earplugs. Putting him on an airplane however, had been a challenge, but he had gone for her, offering moral support when she went to search for her parents a mere 4 months after her graduation. 

He sat next to her silently, holding her hand. She was of course a wreck and trying not to be. Breathing heavily, her lips pressed thin, every possible problem and scenario running through her mind, until he squeezed her hand, kissed her encouragingly and said, “I love you.” It was the first time the words had come from his mouth and she looked up in surprise, the thin thread on her nerves that she held breaking and she dissolved into sobs. “I love you too.” She confessed and stifled her weeping in his shoulder.

Though that was the first time they had exchanged the words, she suspected they had both knew it for a long time before that… And strong as the physical desire was between them, they had waited. Or tried to. Intellectually they knew it was best to take these matters cautiously. One step at a time. That lasted all of three weeks.

She remembered the day with blushing clarity and fondness. As she had so many times before, she had invited him for dinner at her flat, trying her hand at homemade Italian dishes and shamelessly using him as her guinea pig – a turn of phrase he had not understood in the least. It had been a pleasant evening, however. She had made not an altogether terrible meal for them of salad, bread sticks and a rich Bolognese and a tiramisu for dessert. She was quite proud of herself and Lucius had no complaints. And like always they talked and sat together comfortably. They were sipping wine in her darkened sitting room by candlelight. He seldom mentioned it, but she knew the muggle lights bothered Lucius and so when she brought him to her home, she always tried to minimize them. And the ambiance couldn’t be argued with.

She was leaning against his chest as they sat on the sofa, his arm around her, as they listened to some of her instrumental records, when an idea struck her, and she cajoled him into an impromptu dance then and there. A dance led to a kiss; a kiss led to an embrace, an embrace led to yet another kiss and that left them both breathless with wanting.

“Maybe I should go.” He said quietly, breaking their kiss and resting his forehead against hers.

“Don’t you dare.” She warned, threading her fingers through his loose hair, and bringing his lips to hers again.

She kissed him deeply, her hands roaming over his body as he gripped her hips tightly. She felt him groan low in his chest before he pulled back to speak again.

“Hermione… I’ve tried to be patient, as we both acknowledged was best. But I think you will drive me to madness. If I stay…”

“Stay.” She whispered, running her hands up his chest to the buttons of his black dress shirt. She undid the top button and began kissing him slowly at the hollow of his throat, pleased to feel his breath grow quick and shallow. “I’m growing impatient too.”

“Well.” He replied, swallowing hard. “If there is no objection.”

She laughed, her lips still pressed against his increasingly heated flesh before she took several steps back, meeting his eyes with a flirtatious smile as she began undoing the buttons of her white blouse, revealing a white lace bra. “None at all.”

Fire like she had never seen before leapt into his eyes as he watched her, his hands pulled tightly into fists. She had never experienced a feeling of power quite like this and she finished undoing the buttons down the front of her and boldly pulled the blouse from her body, tossing it aside, an ache settling in her belly. “Unless you change your mind then--”

In answer he closed the distance between them before she could finish. “Like hell.” He growled, his hand sliding around to the small of her back, the other behind her neck. He dragged her to him molding her body to his and claiming her lips again. She gasped, grasping his shirt, enjoying the feel of him, exploring him shamelessly, tasting him, and the wine and the heat. She went back to the buttons of his shirt, grateful for no outer robes to get in the way. She wanted – needed – to touch him. When she finally had it undone, she splayed her hands against the toned planes of his body. She could feel the hard evidence of his arousal against her hip as she was held strong in his grasp. She moved against him, thrilled at the groan she heard and felt against her lips. 

His hands were at her waist band, pulling downward on her black slacks. She wriggled out of them, simultaneously pressing against him fully and he hissed. “Damn it, woman. Are you trying to kill me?”

Hermione looked up at him, moaning as he began kissing her throat and she swayed against him. “Only in the best of ways.” She grinned, her hands working at his belt and trousers as he wrenched his shirt off and tossed it behind him, leaving him bare to the waist. She was naked, save her bra and panties, and she was panting at the feel of his hands over her skin. When she finally had him free of the rest of his clothes, she slid her hand downward brazenly, but he seized her wrist to stop her.

“Where’s your bedchamber?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Up the stairs, I’ll show you-”

Hermione went to walk past him on shaking legs and squealed in delight when he grasped her hips and dragged her back to him. “No, I don’t think I’ll be parted from you that long.” He decreed and she laughed and wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her into his arms and carried her easily up the short flight of stairs to her bedroom. Even through the fabric of her panties she felt the heat from him every place they touched. She twined her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply whimpering as every step added to the friction of his body between her thighs. The looks, the kisses, the sensual touches, all had stirred up heat and desire and adrenaline over the short time they had been together. But now that she had him, here, any restraint dissolved, she relished in the raw hunger, masculinity and power radiating off him. 

When they reached the landing, her door was closed. Closed! Why was it closed!? Didn’t the damn thing know every second was agony? There was no time for foolish things like pausing to open a door! But her lover made the most of it, pressing her back against the wall, his steely manhood tantalizingly pressed against her center, and the ache between her legs intensified painfully. With one hand, he undid her bra, with the other he opened the door. He strode in, crossing the room and dropping her unceremoniously on her bed. Her body trembled as she got her first clear look at him and she drank in the sight of him. The man was an absolute god and she was dizzy with desire at the sight of his shaft, yearning and ready for her.

He knelt down beside her on the bed, his hands at the lace of her panties and he pulled them free with agonizing slowness. She shuddered, his hands dragging down her thighs, legs to her ankles as he tugged and tossed the garment aside, and then back up to her hips, his lips following the path his hands drew along her flesh. She moaned and spread her knees apart as he moved between her legs, pressing a nipping, sensual kiss at her navel. She arched her back, trembling as his teeth grazed her skin, and then soothed with his tongue. His hips pressed into her thighs, his kisses reaching her breasts and she cried out in surprise and pleasure when he drew one nipple into his mouth, kneading the other firmly.

“Lucius…” she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair pressing her hips up against his.

She felt him laugh low in his chest, moving upwards to suck at her throat. “Impatient little minx.” 

She smiled and pulled him up so she could feel his lips on hers, touch his face, explore his mouth. She wanted this. Wanted him. She wanted him to take her right there and then, at the same instance she wanted this to go on forever.

Suddenly he broke away, raising up on his hands, his gaze sweeping over her appreciatively. All at once her confidence fled, and she blushed furiously, closing her eyes briefly. But it seemed needless, for when she looked up and met his eyes, there was nothing but dazed admiration. “Gods you are beautiful.”

Hermione smiled up at him and slid her hands over his chest, down the muscles in his arms, over his sides, and watched him shudder when she reached lower. She closed her hand around the hard, hot flesh and he hissed and grit his teeth when she began stroking him teasingly. His head against her temple, she heard a deep low groan. “Hermione.”

The sound of her name on his lips, whispered like a longing prayer, was nearly enough to undo her. With the hand not tormenting him, she grasped the back of his neck, kissing him again, “I want you, Lucius. Please…”

She released her hold on him and brought her knees up, Lucius shifting his body between her thighs. Her body trembled violently at the feel of him searching for entrance, slipping into her heated flesh. Threading his hands with hers above her head, inch by torturous inch he buried himself inside her. Soft gasps and mewling cries escaped her lips, panting and shaking. He took his time, grasping her hips, holding her there on his shaft, and he looked at her intently. He watched every tremor, every gasp, every motion of her body that responded to him. She could feel him throbbing and pulsing inside her, her own body humming with anticipation.

Hermione arched her back, begging wordlessly for him as he filled her, and she took him deeper. Her panting grew more desperate, and she felt the tension in his body as he held himself back. Finally, he moved, pulling out just as slowly before he drove firmly back into her. He groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting his languid, deliberate strokes. She raised her hips, writhing and quivering, her moans and soft purrs of pleasure turning to moaning cries. Her head fell back in ecstasy, but he grasped her chin and shook his head. “Look at me. I want to see you come.”

She obeyed and took his face in her hands as they moved together, his motions becoming faster and harder. She relished in his body, and his touch, beyond anything she had ever felt before. Hermione had been with a few other men before, but in that moment, she wished she could go back and undo it, to give this to him and him alone…

She slid her hands over his back and shoulders, his muscles flexing rhythmically under her palms. She thought having him would soothe the tension, cool and quench the fire he had been stoking for those past two months. But the feel of him inside her only served to drive her desire deeper and she clung to him, desperate for fulfillment and dreading its end all at once. His breath came more ragged, his strokes quicker. His eyes grew as hazy as hers, the look of ecstasy in his eyes driving her even higher. The ache had long ago given way to tension and it coiled tighter and deeper between her thighs and through her belly, his hands trailing over her sweat sheened body. He was gasping from the exertion, every thrust drawing deep moans and frantic cries from her. She gripped his shoulders, raked her nails across his chest, his hips grinding against her with every stroke. 

“You’re incredible.” He groaned. 

“Oh Lucius, please!” she begged.

He angled his hips upward and she bucked against him, sharp bolts of agonizing pleasure lancing through her as he moved, and with one more deep, hard thrust she came crashing around him. She tightened her legs around him, thrashing and screaming, as her body seized. Her head thrown back, she cried out his name as with a strangled shout he came with her, emptying himself into her, her quivering inner muscles dragging him over the edge.

Hermione became sure of quite a few things as they lay tangled together in the afterglow of their love making. Two of those things being, she had never felt anything like this in her life… and that she desperately hoped it would not be the last time she did. 

**Three Years Later  
June 21, 2002 Midsummer’s Day**

Three years from the arrival of that very first arrangement of flowers, and he could still put a flutter in her stomach and an ache in her breast. All of it had culminated when at a party celebrating her promotion to the head of Magical Law Enforcement, he had taken her hand and a toast turned to a proposal as on bended knee he asked her to marry him, for all to hear. That was 6 months before now. Stunned didn’t begin to cover it. But she knew she wanted nothing more, and with tears in her eyes she accepted with an enthusiastic ‘yes’ and the plans began to be made.

And now here she was. Hermione was currently sitting alone in the room set aside for her use in the wedding venue. Lucius had been eager to give her anything and everything she could possibly want… but all she wanted was something simple and quiet. Her parents had found an estate house with lovely gardens that rented its facilities for just such occasions. Lucius cared little and gave her free reign, but it was not without his touch – she had arrived to find the foyer filled with varieties of every flower that had ever been exchanged between them – a nostalgic memory that brought a smile to her lips.

She had not seen him that day, a muggle custom Lucius did not understand or approve of, but he begrudgingly indulged her anyway. She sat in the bridal suite at the vanity, table. It truly was a lovely room. A large ornate four poster bed, Persian rug covering the dark polished wood floor, contrasted with the high white papered walls. The room was bright, large windows with the thick white curtains pulled back let the sunlight of the morning spill in. A chaise, armchair, fireplace, and coffee table added comfort to the elegance. Not that they would be needing the room, she thought with a small smile. Lucius had still not told her where they would be spending their wedding night…

He had given her exactly what she wanted and more and borne any discomfort about the muggle setting silently. He truly was making astonishing strides. She had wanted to give him something in turn, something to show _him_ that she accepted him as fully as he accepted her. She had thought of something, and it was waiting downstairs. She didn’t think he would expect it…

Hermione had just attached the crown of rosemary and white roses to the veil and laid it on the vanity table when there came a soft knock on the door, and she bade them enter. Smiling, dressed in a sweeping floral printed dress, her mother opened the door and came into the room. “Oh, Hermione love, aren’t you just beautiful!”

Hermione beamed at her mother, standing and meeting her in a tight embrace. “Hi mom.”

Emily Granger pulled back, holding her hands as she looked her over. Tears sprang to her bright green eyes and she clasped her hands over her mouth. 

Hermione went forward and touched her forehead to her mother’s and ran a quick soothing hand through her curly black hair. “Are you alright mom?”

She gave a watery laugh and shook her head. “Don’t worry.” She reached into the purse on her shoulder and pulled out one of what was clearly many tissues. “Your father made sure I was prepared.”

Hermione smiled as Emily dabbed at her eyes. “I just can’t believe it. We lost so much time – no, don’t look downcast my precious girl. I know why you did it. And I knew this day would come. I knew two years ago when you showed up at our door in Sydney, Lucius pacing 20 yards away like we would bite him.”

Hermione and Emily laughed, and her mother steered her towards the full-length mirror next to the vanity. “I knew by the way you looked at each other…. That we’d be here sooner or later.”

Emily laid her hands on her shoulders and looked at her in the mirror, her eyes shining with tears and happiness, smoothing a wrinkle of sheer fabric on the skirt of her wedding gown. It was an off white, almost crème colored gown, sheer, floral printed sleeves, with white shimmering petals sewn into the bodice and sporadically down the skirt. It hugged her waist and flared out gently in flowing lengths. She reached up and laid a hand over her mother’s hand and squeezed encouragingly. “You weren’t sure what to make of him in the beginning. I’m glad you came around… And I am so happy you are both here.”

Tears sprung to her own eyes and Emily wrapped her arms around her. “Come, lets get your hair set.”

Ginny had already tamed her hair into softly falling curls, which Emily gathered and twisted at her neck, and secured with a diamond barrette, and then tucked the circlet of rosemary and roses on her hair, straightening the veil as it cascaded down her back. 

“There.” Emily smiled wistfully.

Another knock, and another face appeared in the door. “Ready, kitten?” Phillip Granger asked.

“Oh, is it time already?” she breathed, wringing her hands together.

Her father nodded, running his hand through his wiry brown hair. “It’s not too late you know… Got the car, right out front. We can make a quick break.”

Hermione looked at him sternly but couldn’t remain severe at the sight of the teasing sparkle in his warm brown eyes. “No, daddy.” She laughed, “I’m staying.”

“Well if you insist.” He winked. “I suppose I’ll muddle through. Everyone is ready downstairs.”

“He’s here?” she swallowed, her heart suddenly pounding.

“He’s here.” Her father answered. “And just as anxious to know you’re up here as well, and not conjuring bedsheets into an escape ladder. Draco will keep him contained I think, but we should go.”

She laughed nervously and was grateful for her father’s steadying arm as Emily went out ahead. She picked up her bouquet, and he led her through the open door into the carpeted hallway. She reached out to touch the oak bannister for balance. She could hear voices, and then her mother murmuring something in the large open room below – hurried footsteps, and then silence except the soft tones of a piano. She paused… the flight of stairs in front of her would lead her to the ceremony and there was no going back. Hermione had no doubts, no cold apprehension, or desire to flee. She knew what she wanted. 

Hermione walked purposefully towards the staircase, and as she approached caught sight of the pale blonde heads of Luna and Draco’s three-year-old twins, Scorpius and Eleira. Scorpius was pulling awkwardly at his suit, while a delighted Eleira twirled in her puffy pink dress. Catching sight of them, Eleira gasped and shoved Scorpius and the two of them scrambled away, drawing chuckles from Hermione and her father. As they descended the stairs, Hermione could see the foyer, still filled with the aromatic bouquets and they walked to the open doors leading to the drawing room. 

She had wanted a small gathering of those closest to her, and that was what she saw. Molly and Arthur had come, and surprisingly, Ron with Lavender Brown on his arm. Hermione was grateful she and Ron had learned to be friends again, and though she had never been Lavender’s biggest fan, her renewed presence in Ron’s life 2 years prior meant she could enjoy relative peace. Beside them, stood Harry and Ginny and Hermione’s mother.

And then she saw him. Lucius was standing anxiously next to Draco, the senior Theodore Nott and the ministry official, while only a few paces away a smiling Luna held tightly to the excited twins. She exchanged a knowing smile with Luna as she winked at Hermione and then she looked back towards her intended, her eyes shining with happiness. His hands were held tightly behind his back, and then, he looked up. His lips parted in surprise and a smile curved his mouth the closer she came, brightening his eyes.

Eleira had strewn white and yellow rose petals from one end of the dark wood floor, to the large stone fireplace that Lucius and the officiant, Mr. Fletcher stood. She found herself breathing more heavily the closer she came until finally, she was face to face with him. Her father squeezed her hand, kissed her cheek and placed her hand in Lucius’. He didn’t take his eyes from her until the officiant required his attention. Draco handed their rings to the aged ministry official and read a blessing on the rings. She smiled as he took her hand and slipped the gold wedding band on her finger. She shivered at the feel of his hands on hers, the sound of his voice as he repeated the words the officiant read and smiled when Hermione did the same. But a look of confusion passed over his face when no further vows were mentioned, and the official turned away. Hermione smiled, and watched the officiant withdrew his wand and from a trunk behind him a small stone basin appeared between him and Lucius and Hermione.

Lucius turned to her, eyebrows raised. “A blood binding ceremony? You never mentioned… I thought…”

“That I wanted a simple, muggle-style ceremony? I did.” She acknowledged, “But I know how important tradition is to you… And so, I looked through my books at different ceremonies used in weddings that would work in this setting, and you know… it is a part of me too… so I asked Mr. Fletcher to incorporate the ceremony, and…” she trailed off and her eyes drifted closed at the feel of his hand at her cheek. “And I’m rambling again, aren’t I…?”

“You’d better continue, Mr. Fletcher.” Lucius smirked. “I’d very much like to kiss my bride.”

Smiling in anticipation she let him take her hands as Mr. Fletcher intoned an enchantment over the basin of water. Her right, in Lucius’ left, Mr. Fletcher poured the enchanted water over their hands. One after the other, they turned the other’s palm up in their own hand and, speaking the incantation and dragging their wand across the flesh, a small painless cut was made, and they laid their wands on the basin. When they were both bleeding, Mr. Fletcher joined their hands.

“Mr. Malfoy, if you will repeat after me –“

“Thank you, there’s no need.” Lucius said, his eyes burning into hers. Hermione held her breath. “I take you,” he began, “Hermione Jean Granger, to be my wife. Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh. I take you, heart, body, soul.” 

She knew the words. Had read them dozens of times. Anticipated hearing them today. Simple words really. Short and to the point. But she had not expected to become so emotional, but she was bowing her head, tears filling her eyes and tearfully she repeated the words as she looked up at him. “I take you, Lucius Abraxus Malfoy, to be my husband. Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh. I take you, heart, body, soul.” 

“Lucius and Hermione.” Mr. Fletcher said. “You have taken each other in matrimony, witnessed by your friends and family. May you be bound together this day and for eternity, until death do you part, so mote it be. You may kiss the--”

_Bride_ was obviously what Mr. Fletcher _would_ have finished his pronouncement with, but it was wholly unnecessary. Lucius needed no prompt or permission to take her tear stained face in his hands and press his lips to hers. The first kiss, warm and pleasant, was brief, and he smiled, looking down into her eyes as she laughed happily. “Come now Mr. Malfoy. You can do better than that.”

His eyes danced. “Too true, Mrs. Malfoy.” 

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned down again, his arms around her waist, and they came together in a deep and passionate kiss as Hermione tossed her bouquet of wisteria, roses and rosemary blindly.

“To new beginnings.” She whispered


End file.
